The White Rose: Petals of Blood
by Jessemudflap
Summary: Never forget, Red, that happily ever after is only for the storybooks.
1. Family Tree

Starfire and Robin (Richard) Grayson

18- **Shiamar** (Shia)

18- **Samara** (Sam, Sammy)

17- _Adara_ (Ada) Pronounced: _Ah-dar-ah_

17- _Dahlia_

17- _Kiranne_ (Kira) Pronounced: _Kir-an_

8-Lucan (Luc)

* * *

Raven and Beast Boy (Garfield) Logan

18-Grey

17-Dante: Pronounced: _Dahn-Tae_

13-Malachi: Pronounced: _Mal-ah-ki_

8-Gryphon

4-Haven

* * *

Bumblebee and Cyborg (Victor) Stone

16-Sophie

11-**Racer**

11-**Ryder**

* * *

Mallory and Wyatt Hallowell

21-Christian

16- Nathaniel (Nate)

14-Derrick

* * *

Hannah and Ethan Matthews

16-**Roxanne** (Roxie)

16-**Ryanne** (Ryan)

13-Melody

11-Cody

* * *

Harley and Colt Davis

16-Sebastian (Bastian)

14-Krista (Kris)

13-Talon

7-Mackinzie (Mac)

* * *

Alexander (Lex) and Katelynn Twain

22-Connor

18-**Chase**

18-**Cameron** (Cam)

14-Caden (Cade)

11-Cleo

* * *

**Legend**

**Twins**

_Triplets _

* * *

I posted this because there are so many characters. If you do plan on reading the sequel, I suggest using this page as a go-to if you forget whom the children belong to or what age they are when most of the story takes place. There will be flashbacks, but most of the story will be with the children as the appointed age above. 

But before you become weary of all the kids, the only real children of the story will be:

Shiamar

Samara

Adara

Dahlia

Kira

Grey

Dante

Christian

Chase

Cameron

The rest will make minor appearances, but these are the main ones I'll be focusing on. Once you think about it, it's about the same number of characters in the first White Rose, but this time, I created all characters. Kind of a scary thought, no?

By the way, Kira will probably be the main character—mainly because she's the one who most people took a liking too and she is based off me (didn't know that, huh?)

—_Giggles insane_ly—

Also, in case any one noticed and thought about it, Dante is based off my favorite character ever, Shikamaru Nara from Naruto. He will be original, however, but he might snag a few 'troublesome' moments. )


	2. Chapter one

Sorry, but I read through the other version, foudn too many mistkes and had to fix it. This is the new and not so horrible version. Sorry again.

* * *

_She had gone by many names in the past eighteen years. She had lived different lives, slept with different people, had gone through random surgeries that would change who she was. _

_She was a mother, a wife, a whore, a murder. Her soul was tainted with past sins, and she relished in the pain and suffering of others. She had killed mercilessly, had raped and plundered and stolen until there was no trace of good left within her demented mind._

_Her lovers were many, and she had been forced, on dozens of occasions, to result in abortions. She kept five wonderful children, however, all of whom took on her sick mind and twisted views. They were fathered by an amazingly strong man who was pure power beneath solid muscle. He was intelligent, a dark mastermind who used his unimaginable fortune to wreak havoc upon those he hated. _

_She was his muse, his love, and she wouldn't leave him for anything in the world. Kenneth, her oldest obsession, was their play toy when the desire struck. He was fine with this, of course, for he always had first dibs on the people they hurt, the women they raped, and the men they murdered. _

_But that one incident, all those long years ago, burned the back of her mind and kept her going through all those days. The intent to kill made her strong, forced her to strengthen her body and her mind, in hopes of one day bringing down that redheaded whore and her entire world. The half demon, the cop's daughter, the teenage mother, and the mayor's stepdaughter would also pay for putting her father and uncle behind bars. It was their fault she had to run away from Jump City, their fault that she couldn't get them out of her mind, their fault that she lusted for their blood and body every goddamned night, and their fault that she became obsessed with their children. _

_They were gorgeous creatures, all of them, with their smooth muscles and soft skin. The boys, even the cop's sons, were so damn arousing that it took all of her willpower to keep her hands from them. It was unnatural, that so many boys could tug at her so hard that she feared she would lose her mind. _

_Constantly, she had to remind herself that it wasn't the male children of the bitches that she had a grudge with: it was the daughters. _

_It came as no surprise that the redheaded whore would birth so many stunning children. All six of them were unnaturally beautiful, but it was the four girls that attracted her. The tall, willowy Sam, whose body was sculpted just as her mother's had been so many years ago. She was a marvelous sight, with the waterfall of red hair and honey gold eyes, but it was her power and her will to fight that attracted her the most. She refused to give up, no matter what it was, and would fight until she was no longer able to lift a finger. She was quite and sullen, but oh God, the intensity behind her was so overpowering that she often found herself faltering and reaching for the girl when she passed by. She was a heady mixture that had her heart pounding and fire dancing through her veins. _

_Adara was the energy in the family, with boundless confidence and unwavering optimism. She could never stay mad at anyone, nor could she bring herself to fight others when it came time. Her passion was people and interacting with others, so much like her mother had been. Her hair was dark, midnight against soft dark skin. Her eyes were gold, just like her sister's, and she was the first—and only, as of yet—to lose her virginity. She had been with Twain's youngest twin boy, Cameron, since middle school, and it had only been recently that she had slept with the kid. It did not take away her appeal however, and she found herself aching for the bundle of delicious light that was Adara Grayson. _

_Dahlia Grayson amused her greatly. She was dark, where her identical sister was light, and had no qualms with jumping into a fight with swords raised. Her love was weapons, her favorite being a high-tech arrow designed to hold all that amazing alien power within the metal tips of the arrows. She was a worthy foe, that much was sure, but her spirit was unlike anything she had seen. Normally, she was detached and sarcastic, but in battle, her eyes darkened with power and the hidden passion within the young girl roared to life like an untamable fire. She loved it, desired it like she desire control, and she wanted nothing more than to break the Gothic girl's will. _

_But it was the youngest girl, Kiranne that flamed the desire inside her. The girl was perfect, with her unbelievable purity and soft voice. Kira was all she preferred, all innocence held inside a breathtaking body and amazing strength. There was no fighter like the girl, who was stronger than any person she had set eyes on. She could easily defeat any of her sisters, though she never tried, for her confidence in herself was so low that she, the woman who wanted to destroy Red, wanted nothing more than to bundle her up in her arms and console her wounded soul. Her tall body was sculpted with muscle, but she hid it behind baggy clothes as if it were disgusting. Her hair, all that glorious fiery curls, was always swept back in a tumble of magnificence to her slim hips. She was, in her eyes, the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, although her beauty lay within her heart. She could see so much of Starfire in the girl that she would gladly kill to have her. She was tempted, beyond anything she felt before, the actually keep the girl and take her whenever it suited her, instead of just disposing of her like most of the children she had taken. _

_Now Grey Logan, the oldest daughter to the half demon whore, was a piece of art. She was so tiny, barely toping five feet, yet her attitude made her at least six feet tall. She was a spitfire, all wild, uncontrollable fervor that drew more than her fair share of suitors to her door. However, the beautiful shape shifter was dead set on never dating. She had a pact with the other girls—excluding Adara—on staying virgins until marriage. It was something she was quite passionate about, which made it all the more perfect for her in the long run. She was a girl that would be a joy to rape, who would fight and bite and use all means to stop it no matter what it had to be. _

_The other chits, although the twins to the mayor's stepdaughter were adorable, were not as compelling as the other girls. She would get rid of them, of course, but she saw no real need in raping them, not when the five other girls held such promise. Her mission was to destroy Red (Grey Logan was too intriguing not to pass up) and involving others would merely make things more complicated than things needed to be. Those five girls would be her ticket into a wonderful world, where evil prevailed over good. _

_It was damn time she made sure that Red's little fairytale life came to an end. _

_

* * *

_

She pushed open the double doors, heel clicking unrelentingly against the cement ground as she strode forward with a sultry swagger of hips, smirking at the looks of desire that the men gave her.

She stood at the podium, idly arranging her documents as the crowd murmured in wonder. No one was aware of her plots, but she knew, without a doubt, that no murderer, rapist, robber, or super-villain in this room would object to what she was about to propose.

Her husband sat before her, legs crossed and hands folded beneath his chin as a smirk danced upon his mouth. His long red hair was tied back in a serious ponytail at the nape of his neck, emphasizing his broad jaw and high cheeks bones. Her heart pounded in her chest at the look of him, but she merely winked and unbuttoned the top of her jacket provocatively.

He seemed pleased, which egged her on, but she had a mission today, and she refused to let anything stop it from happening.

She pressed her fingers to her mouth and gave a sharp, earsplitting whistle. After a few groans of pain, the crowd settled down, turning evil eyes to her. She smiled wickedly at the throng of people.

"Who here is aware of the Titans?"

There was a roar of distain, which brought a grin to her full mouth. "And who here is aware of the mayor, or his billionaire wife, or the mechanic and his shrink wife? Who here knows of the detective or his little inspector? I know you are attentive of whom I speak, for eighteen years ago, my father was in the throws of destroying them all. He was seconds away from ridding this world of the renowned Teen Titans."

She paused while they howled with broken hope before she lifted up one manicured hand. Immediately, they quieted. "But he was defeated by those worthless women, and now, he spends his days in prison, suffering while his life dwindles away behind bars. He will die there, all thanks to those sickening heroes who think themselves better than us because they are able to stop us from living. Why must we sit back while they live their lives? Why must we suffer for their actions? My father does not deserve to rot in jail, nor does he deserve to let them get away with what they did.

"I am sure you know that they have children." A low murmur arose from the crowd. She smiled and gathered the papers she brought in her hand. "I hold here the information of the White Rose survivors' children. All that is needed is here in the files."

She lowered them, idly straightening the papers and setting them down on the large, circular projector. "You question as to why you are here. It's understandable. It's not everyday that you get a calling from a multimillionaire to gather in an abandoned warehouse building to listen to his wife ramble on about the past." A few chuckled, but most were detached, faces deprived of any emotions. Those, she thought to herself with a smile, those are the ones who will do the job right.

"We bring you here today because we need your help. We need you, those worthy of calling themselves evil, to destroy the children of the Titans and their friends' children." She held up a finger when some started to open their mouths. "But not just all of the children. I want the girls."

Their voices weaved together as the questions spurted forth. "The men hold no interest for me. It is the women of the Titans children that I want: Samara Grayson. Adara Grayson. Dahlia Grayson. Kiranne Grayson. Grey Logan. Capturing and torturing these girls will lead us to a brilliant victory, for what are the Titans now without their true fighters? You know that the women far precede the men in fighting. Look at Samara. Better yet, look at Kiranne. She is the epitome of a hero. Tell me, how many have you have been taken down by the sweet, virginal little girl? How many of you have been humiliated because of her? Because she refuses to give you a fight because she pities you?"

More than half of their hands rose in grudging distain. "How many of you would love to get back at those five girls who weak havoc upon all your hard work?"

All hands rose at this, save for those who watched her with wary eyes. "Tell me," one called from the back, and the villains parted as he walked forward. He was young, no more than twenty five, with two long swords strapped to his back and an entire array of daggers on his belt. Long blonde hair fell over his eyes as his handsome face turned toward her. "What do we get for helping you?"

She locked eyes with him as the crowed mumbled amongst themselves, curious now. She smiled at him, noting the way his dark eyes stayed impassive. "What do you wish for your services?"

He cocked his head, strong arms folded over his broad chest. "Dahlia."

She laughed, couldn't help it, and swore she had already fallen in love with the boy. "Deal. You bring me the rest of the girls and I will gladly let you keep Dahlia. Do what you please with her, and I'll even let you have all the credit of taking her down."

She cocked her finger at him. "Come, and we will discuss your plans for our innocent Dahlia." When he was settled next her, towering over her demure height, she turned to the rest of the crowd.

"Now, as for the rest of you…whoever brings me Samara Grayson, Kiranne Grayson, or Grey Grayson will receive fifty thousand dollars on the spot. That and I'll even allow you to have you own way with them once I'm finished. As for the other girls, including the young girls of their friends, whoever manages to kill them will receive the same amount as before. But this time, if it pleases you, you can have them completely to yourselves. But I want Kiranne, Sam, and Grey at all costs."

She smiled wickedly. "Now... Who's up for the job?"

Her laugh tinkered as hands shot upward. "Now, now, let's not be hasty. First, let me fill you in one each girl, starting with Samara Grayson."

She pulled out a file and opened it, flipping through the pages. The boy next to her eyed the folder, before reaching around her and grabbing the rest of them, thumbing idly through it. She blinked at him as he pulled out Dahlia's folder, sat the rest down on the projector, and flicked through it with more interest than she had ever seen in him. It occurred to him that she did not know him name.

"What do they call you, sweetheart?" His dark eyes lifted to hers in annoyance at the nickname before returning the Dahlia's information. "They call me Blade."

"Not exactly original is it?" She laughed at his dull stare. "Okay, Blade whom is so interested in our Gothic Dahlia." She moved toward the folders when he asked, deep voice tinted with something she couldn't put her finger on, "Dahlia's a virgin?"

She read briefly through Sam's profile as she offhandedly said, "Yes. They all are except Adara, who just lost hers to her boyfriend of five years…Dahlia's too busy playing with weapon or sharpening them to worry about romance and such. In fact, I don't think she's even kissed anyone before." She glanced up with a furrowed brow before shrugging. "Though the chemistry she has with the football player is electrifying. So much hate that ends up really being sexual tension, so I have a feeling, if you don't act soon and take everything, she'll end up jumping the poor boy. Why'd you ask?"

"I want everything."

She glanced up at him, nearly giddy at the raw possession in his eyes. "You don't plan on killing her, do you?"

"No." And he resumed looking through her folder, eyes caressing over the photo she had snapped one day when the girl had fought in a rather nasty battle. It was quite beautiful really, with fire leaping behind her and blood dripping down into those powerful eyes. Her bow, raging with green flames, was arched backwards, hand touching a mouth that was almost too full. The picture captured the raw fury in every soft line of her face. It wasn't hard to see why Blade was so enthralled with her. She was a powerful beauty.

"What do they call you?" He asked, eyes scanning her school reports.

She smiled as she set up the projector, eyes clouding with memories. "I was called Rebecca."

"Ah." He was back to the file, leaving her to set up the technology. She caught her husband's eye and winked. His eyes were on the boy, however, and Rebecca wondered if it was desire dancing in the brown depths of his eyes. She smiled. That was good. Maybe he would get ideas to bring the boy home with them.

"I'm sorry for the delay, but I'm not exactly a master at this new technology. I much preferred the simpler times where projectors were displayed on a wall instead of in midair with holographs." She turned to her audience, who had previously been meandering about and conversing with other villains of their caliber. "Might one of you be a technical genius?"

Rebecca raised an eyebrow when a huge, bulking man of about thirty-five walked forward, head shaved bald and muscles bulging beneath pale skin. "Gismo," he said in a high tenor. He moved her aside, and in less than two seconds he had the machine purring. "Know how to work it?"

She shook her head, surprised at how high his voice really was. For a body that big and a voice so…boyish? Very strange. "No…technical idiot here."

He grinned, teeth flashing bright. He held out a meaty hand. "Folders, please?"

She handed them to him, watching as he thumbed through them. "Do you have a cartridge for this?" At her dull look, he added, "a disc? You know, so we can see the information? Or do you just have the papers to these girls?"

She dug through her briefcase as she remembered the disc where all the information was. _Stupid. How could you have copied all those papers when all you needed was this? _

She handed it to him, watching as he popped it into the projector with skilled ease. "So…why are you here?"

He turned toward her, hands on wide hips. "I've unfinished business with the Titans."

"Oh…old foe?"

"The Hive Five ring any bells?"

She blinked, and betrayed her unruffled appearance when she gawked. "You're that Gismo? But he was so—"

"It's amazing what technology can do these days." He smiled and sauntered down the stairs. "By the way," he added, turning back around to face her. "I'll take down Adara Grayson with ease."

Rebecca flashed a pretty smile at him before she faced her crowd once again. "Ladies and gentleman, I give you Samara Grayson."

She moved to the monitor, pressed a few buttons, and suddenly, the holograph of one Sam Grayson popped up. She moved to the side as the lights snapped off and read off the physical body of the eighteen year old girl.

"Samara Grayson, age eighteen. Height is six foot three; weight is one hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscles. Her strength is in her arms and she is a master of her Tameranian powers." The hologram flickered slightly before she zoomed onto her face, letting them all memorize each feature.

"Her weakness is the same as her father's. Antagonize her, get her angry, and she'll throw all caution to the wind and will fights with heat. But it makes her clumsy. Her anger and desire to be the best clouds her true strength, and it's easy to take her down."

She zoomed out again, letting them take in her entire body, clad in nothing but holographic bra and underwear. "Any questions?"

When no one raised a hand, she nodded. "Copies of this information will be handed to those who wish to help. Now, we get to Adara Grayson."

She switched files so it was Ada's information they studied. "Adara Grayson, age seventeen. Height is six foot; weight is one hundred and thirty three pounds. Her power lies within her staff, given to her by her father. She will not fight unless pushed to it, so if it comes to it, you have to hurt either her or her family. She is the weakest of the Grayson family, and should be easy enough to destroy. Gismo had already decided he wishes to take her down." She repeated the same process as with Sam before asking, "Questions?"

Gismo raised his hand. "We don't have to rape them if we get them, do we?"

Rebecca blinked. "No. Your punishment is completely up to you."

He nodded, pleased with the answer. He had no real desire in raping the girl, for it was demeaning to them both. He much preferred murder.

She moved to Dahlia, but Blade's hand jerked out to grab her. "She's mine," he snapped, hands tightening over her slim wrist.

Rebecca merely waved him off. "I know, I know. But others still need to be aware of her if it arises. I promise you will be the only one to handle Dahlia. This is just a precaution."

She waited patiently as he moved back, eyes fluttering to Dahlia's form. "Here we have Dahlia Grayson, age seventeen. Height is six foot; weight is one hundred and thirty nine pounds. Her strength is weapons and hand to hand combat. She's a nasty fighter, and rarely leaves her opponents conscious. She has no problem with fighting, and it is remarkably hard to take her down. If it comes down to it, she has no qualms with killing. Her weakness lies within herself. If she gets too mad, her powers flare up, causing her to destroy anything within a forty foot radius. After this, she gets weak, and has been known to collapse under the strength of her own power, which is why it is difficult to anger her. She's a master a controlling emotions in herself, so be careful, Blade. She's a tough opponent to mess with."

He nodded, eyes flashing with excitement. So, the boy wanted a challenge. Rebecca sighed and moved to her favorite girl. He's certainly going to get a challenge, she murmured to herself.

"Kiranne Grayson, age seventeen. Height is six foot one; weight is one hundred and thirty nine pounds. Her strength is…well, everything. She's remarkably strong, fast, clever at reading opponents, and will take you out with one blow. She doesn't play at all. She is easily the strongest of all Titans, including the parents. Her weakness also lies within herself. Despite the fact that she is the strongest, her will is weak; her confidence in herself dwindled down to nothing. She refuses to hurt anyone and will not kill anyone, which is a huge downfall. If worst comes to worst, take a hostage and she's yours. Her heart is too kind, and she won't fight if someone else is in danger of getting hurt. If you threaten to hurt others, she will bend to you, and let herself take the brunt of everything. This rarely happens, however, and you have to be strategic in your plans. If you anger her, things get nasty, and that innocence that is completely her diminishes and is replaced by something equally as frightening as her strength. In her fury, there is not telling what she might do. The only time anyone ever really angered her ended up in a coma for fours years. He still has not awoken. Keep in mind that this was when she was thirteen. There's no telling how strong she has gotten now."

Rebecca smiled. "She is the one I want. Do not forget this."

She brought up Grey, and most of the men in the room groaned their arousal. With a chuckle, she read her profile. "Grey Logan, age eighteen. Height is four feet eleven and a half inches; weight is one hundred pounds. Her strength is in her powers, which is a gift from her demonic mother. Her powers dabble more into witch craft, however, and she often switches between that and morphing. She rarely uses hand to hand, but she is known to use an ancient practice that can literally rend you useless with one touch of her hand. It's easy to rile her and get her angry, but it's useless in doing so. With her anger, her powers intensify, and you're pretty much screwed. So unless you have a death wish, refrain from mentioning her height. Her weakness is hand to hand. She can fight, but it's sloppy, for she was more into casting spells and learning the tricks of her shifting. To take her down, you need to be amazingly fast and an expert in hand to hand."

She tilted her head up slightly as the lights flickered back on. "These are your targets. You know their strengths and their weaknesses. Now, it is up to you how you take them down. Those of you who wish to help, step forward. Those of you who are not interested, please, keep this a secret from everyone and step out."

She was pleased when only a few made a move to leave. She turned back to her guard, who had been standing in the shadows the entire time, and beckoned him forth. "Handle them for me, please."

He nodded gruffly before heading for the door. The crowd watching in horrified amazement as screams of pain erupted from outside. Her guard stepped back in, two dead bodies sluing over his shoulder and two being dragged ruthlessly by the hair.

"Anyone else?" She added sweetly before smiling at them. "Good. Now, there's a catch to this little scheme." She stepped from behind the podium, calmly smoothing down her suit as if nothing strange had happened and she had not ordered four people to be murdered in the blink of an eye.

"When you go after them, I wish to be present. Of course, I can't be at so many places at on time, so you will come to me with your ideas, and I will weed through them until we find the ones that are bound to work. When you leave, you will be given my information and where to contact me. And please, don't come up with stupid ideas. I have no time to waste, not when the future life of evil hangs in the balance."

She allowed the crowd to leave, letting her body guard pass out the information and striking more fear into their hearts. It would make sure no one betrayed her. Those that tried…well, they would be dealt with.

She let out a heavy breath and rolled her shoulders. Public speaking had always stressed her out. Her husband walked up to her, large hands settling on her shoulders and rubbing the tense muscles. "That was amazing. I have never seen such a captivated audience before."

She cooed in pleasure when his hands slipped down her shoulder and disappeared inside the tight opening of her jacket. His mouth settled against her neck, but before she could turn in his arms, Blade stepped forward, Dahlia's folder tucked safely inside his black jacket.

He ignored her husband as he cupped her breast roughly, instead tilting his head and studying her eyes. "When can I have her?"

Rebecca shook her head and pulled away from her husband's rough fingers. He wasn't pleased, but his mood changed when his small wife pressed her body against the young man's, finger trailing down his muscled chest.

He did nothing to stop her, but he was impassive to her actions. "I want her."

She smiled. "I know. You can have her whenever you please, but I suggest you wait until the right moment. Never jump into things too quickly. You lose interest if you don't drag out the desire. Besides, I find watching as intoxicating as having. But until then…how about you come home with us? We wouldn't mind the company. Besides," she added with an arch of a perfectly shaped brow, "I have a daughter who can sate your lust until you get Dahlia. She has short black hair like Dahlia, so maybe you can more easily imagine her."

Blade blinked slowly. "Are you offering me your daughter?"

"Of course. She's sixteen, plenty old enough to fuck. It's not like she's a virgin or anything. We try to prohibit innocence in our household as much as we can."

Blade studied her a moment before he gave a rough shrug. "Whatever."

Rebecca grinned, arm slipping through his. "I was hoping you would say that." She pulled the young man toward the exit, her husband watching them hungrily from behind.

"So who should we destroy first?"

* * *

Well, I was on a roll after finishing the chapter for the Beast Within, so I decided to start on this and, bam! I'm finished. Probably sucks, but it's so darn hard to write the very first chapter and keep it interesting. Sorry none of the kids were in here, but I had to set up Rebecca's character more and lay out her plots. I'll get to working on the last chapter for TBW and the next for this.

Hoped this didn't suck too greatly and if it did…well, I can always rewrite it.


	3. Chapter Two

Hi again, people! This is another installment of the White Rose, but now, the main characters will be mine! So, in a way, if I ever do became a famous writer, this is how it'll turn out, but there will still be mentions of the original Teen Titans. –I'd add a disclaimer, but those things are stupid. Everyone knows that no one here owns Teen Titans

But I have to warn you; this chapter will be dull. Very dull. This merely shows how the Titans have lived the past eighteen years since The White Rose. You do get a chance to get a feel for the children, however, so this chapter is not all that useless.

* * *

For the past eighteen years, they had lived in fear. Never knowing when or if your greatest foe was watching your children, plotting their demise, or merely playing with emotions to have them so wired that they couldn't function as parents.

But somehow, the five survivors of the White Rose era managed to get a foothold in a normal life. They married, had children, and dabbled in real jobs that paid real money.

Starfire, whom seemed to interest the White Rose killer's the most, had a total of six children with her husband, Robin. When she had been pregnant with her first children—twins Shiamar and Samara—she had taken it upon herself to have a little chat with the school board of Jump City High (she couldn't bear working at the private school, for it held too many raw memories). When held captive, Mallory and Starfire had discussed her home on Tameran. When Mallory had mentioned that she knew nothing about the different planet, it had clicked that she could teach the next generation more about her homeland. So when it was passed that Tameran studies could be an elective, Starfire took a brief vacation to study up on her planet's history. She was gone for a month, which had Robin nearly pulling his hair out, for he was trying to wrangle with a outgoing son who got into everything, and a broody daughter who found it entertaining to whack her brother over the head with anything she could get her tiny hands on. It hadn't helped that Starfire had been pregnant, again, save for this time, it was triplets: Adara, Dahlia, and Kiranne. (Robin couldn't remember any of his family producing twins or triplets, which had him scratching his head for a while, until Raven offhandedly said it was because they were at it two and three times a day, even when they had found she was pregnant). Their last child, Lucan, was ten years younger than the twins, but was easily the most babied of them all. When Starfire returned, and her children were at a good age, Starfire became the first Tameranian teacher to ever live on Earth.

Her class became the talk of the school, and nearly everyone, from grades ninth to twelfth, wanted to take it. And it was not her wonderful teaching that had students—mainly boys—interested in the course. Even at the age of thirty-six, Starfire was easily the most beautiful person within a hundred mile radius of Gothem City. She was still tall and willowy, with a tiny waist and a body that had even teachers drooling. Her hair was cut shorter than in her younger years, but was still long, and always pulled back by cute little clips or twisted at her nape with some frilly ponytail holder. Her face had matured greatly, but she still looked only to be about thirty, if even that.

Robin found his calling when he stumbled upon (quite literally, as he was chasing after his twins when Shia purposely tripped Sam and sent her into a full blown rage) a ragged dojo that hadn't seen occupants since the eighteen hundreds. It was dingy and dust infested, but it had grabbed hold of the warrior in him. He tracked down the owner, offered a hefty sum of money, and within days, he became the proud proprietor of the Falcon Dojo of Martial Arts. When the wooden floors were waxed to a brilliant shine and the paper doors were recovered, the building became a perfect example of the Japanese dojo. Outfits were ordered and bokkens and Iai-to's were bought. Robin's business had started out slow, with only the children of the White Rose victims attending, but soon enough, Robin found himself teaching up to forty children in one room. His little dojo skyrocketed, and before he could realize what was happening, his business was earning him thousands of dollar for teaching self-defense. It helped that his children helped him, especially Dahlia, whom he found was nearly perfect with weaponry and hand to hand combat. She became his personal assistant, and he finally ended up paying her for her service.

Raven had picked through many things. She tried dark poetry, but found that to get old, fast, especially since she had been pregnant with her first child, and the little devil had forbidden her to be gloomy. Then, when passing by a club where teenagers were sulking about because they weren't allowed in, for alcohol was served, it clicked in her mind that she could create her own club, for teens and adults. Her mind had whirled with possibilities while her daughter Grey stretched contentedly in her womb. She had spent her first two pregnancies figuring it out. Below would be the club for teens only, where soda was served and anyone could get in. But above could be where the adults lingered, so both were happy. Of course, that would require someone to watch the stairs at all time, which would mean a little less money, but once her mind was set, Raven started. Months later, after hunting for a place, insurances, finding entertainment, and designing it perfectly, _The Raven _was easily one of the most popular clubs in Jump City, for every teenager hoping to prove themselves by having fun and not drinking flocked to it. By the first year, _The Raven _had earned more money than Raven knew what to do with, and she decided to hold back most of it for her children's future.

Raven, as well, had changed in the past eighteen years. She was still small and had a sarcastic streak that had people backing off wearily, but there were now laugh lines around her mouth and eyes, for her husband and children had finally brought light into her dark world. Her hair was long, but was always pulled back in a braid or ponytail, so she could easily clean up her club or order people around without it getting in the way. The clothes she were cool colors, because despite the fact that she was no longer as Gothic, pink didn't suit her. She did, however, have a favored pair of combat boots that no one could take her away from. Bumblebee helped around the club, and found her talent at bartending.

Beast Boy, after all the tofu jokes from Cyborg, decided to prove that tofu _was_ popular and that there were people out there who would enjoy it. He scouted out buildings in hopes to find somewhere were he could start his hopefully successful business, and had smacked into his pregnant wife when turning a corner. She had just come from signing the deed to her place and had asked him what he was doing. Beast Boy, from his spot on the ground, grudgingly admitted that he wanted to open his own tofu place. Raven shook her head, listed all the things he would have to accomplish, before laughing and telling him that there was an empty building beside hers. He scrambled over to the structure, loved it, and bought it. Amazingly, people in Jump City really did love tofu and salads, and _Logan's Leaf_ became quite a hit. It worked out wonderfully that the people from his wife's club always came next door to grab a bite to eat when they puckered out from the dancing. Thankfully, when Kira became old enough, she became his number one chef and people from all over flocked to try her amazing food.

Hannah was now a multimillionaire. Her power rivaled that of Bruce Wayne in Gothem City, but the fame never went to her head. She ruled her company with a kindness that was unique to tycoons, but knew when to put her foot down and become a hard-hitting bitch when someone messed with her. When she wasn't working on making her company bigger and better, she took time to invest in Jump City High, and helped build a new, better school with more chances for students to become active, like adding an Olympic sized pool so a new swim team could begin and an open field for archery. Every person within her building loved her, and even those who pushed seventy refused to retire. She never replaced someone because of age, and her interns all strived to become like her. But the moment she came home, she was a mother. Her main concern was her children, and if she got a call for business during her kids' parties or recitals, she refused to leave them. However, when it came to a point where she had to leave, she would bring them with her, and even had a designer create a playroom that was adjacent to her large office.

Hannah had grown into an amazingly attractive woman, even with the scars from her past marring her body and heart. She did walk with a slight limp from her knee injury, and there were times when her shoulder pained her so much that she was forced to a chiropractor (most times, her husband had a helping hand at soothing the pain). Her hair was still long and curly, but she kept it pulled back in a bun or French braid. Her daily work clothes were suits, but she always softened them with a lace camisole beneath the strict jacket and usually left it unbuttoned.

Ethan had gone to college near Hannah while she built her empire up again, and had majored in politics. He was dead set on fixing the wrongs his uncle had caused, and for years he dabbled in politics. When elections came for mayor, Ethan jumped in, and became the youngest man to ever become mayor in Jump City. He was only thirty-five. He had some troubles, for people couldn't forget the problems his uncle had caused, but after awhile, he gained their trust and help lead a city to peaceful times.

Mallory took it upon herself to help teens through troubling times, and became a physiatrist for children. She earned a Master's degree in Physiology, but had to earn it little by little after giving birth to two other boys after Christian. When at first she tried to open her own place, but had no money—it wasn't easy, considering Wyatt was struggling to help with the payments on the garage he owned with Cyborg and they were helping their twelve year old move to Harvard—Hannah had invested in a beautiful place close to her company for Mallory's twenty-sixth birthday. Mal had at first been unsure how to act, and swore over and over that she would pay her back for it when she got them money. And she did. In no time flat, parents were begging her to help their troubled teenagers, and offered her thousands of dollars at a time. Overwhelmed, Mallory had sat down and talked with the teens by herself, and it was a proven fact that over ninety-eight percent of her teenagers straightened up and resumed real lives that didn't involve drugs. There were those who were too far gone to be helped, and though it took a serious toll on her when they committed suicide, turned to drugs, or were locked behind bars, the children she was able to help kept her going. Her main focus, however, were children who had been raped and blamed themselves for it.

She had, on more than one occasion, cried along with her patients, and that was the reason she was so loved. She wasn't stuffy, and she didn't lie to them. She broke when they did, and offered them comfort when they needed a shoulder to cry on. She had gang leaders threaten to kill her when she delved too deep, but by the end of the secession, she had them relaying their worst fears while she held them. But while she managed to pry their worst times from them, she told them of her mistakes, and how she had ended up a teenage mother.

She was still amazingly little, with her hair cut short and layered around her soft, heart-shaped face. She still wore nine earrings in each ear, which helped relax some kids, and usually came to work with jeans and a shirt, for she did not believe that suits and stiff clothing helped matters any. It was quiet a surprise for all over her patients to look up and see their therapist walk in with her hair piled on top of her head with sweatpants and a sweater, and plop down in her chair with her feet curled under her slim body and a smile that could calm a raging devil.

Wyatt loved his garage, he really did, but Cyborg got to be a pain after awhile. He struggled with payments for a short time, but with Cyborg's amazing skill, the money rained in and suddenly it wasn't as hard to keep his head above water. With the help of Cyborg, Wyatt became a masterful mechanic, and found that he much preferred the details more than the metal. So Cyborg did the tune-ups, faulty break lines, and engines, as Wyatt did the paint, upholstering, and graphic designs, and their business took flight.

Harley, at first, tried to be a reporter, but it held no room for her outrageous personality. It had been too boring, for it required a calm person who kept her emotions in check. Harley was not the woman for that job. So she spent the next eight years as a stay at home mom raising Sebastian, Krista—who was two years younger than Bastian—and Talon, who had born exactly eleven months after her sister. But when Talon left for preschool and left her at home, by herself, Harley finally found what she wanted to become: an investigator for her husband and Twain. It fit her personality perfectly, for she was a total snoop and could easily wrangle the truth from anyone—especially her husband. At first, Colt had been weary. She had already been in enough danger already and Colt knew he couldn't lose her a second time. But she was hell-bent on going to college and getting her degree, so during the day, while her children were at school, Harley studied. But as luck would have it, when Talon turned six, she ended up pregnant again. It didn't stop her, however. Up until she was seven months pregnant, Harley went to school. When Mackenzie was born, she took a brief break, but kept studying, even with a newborn cuddled in her arms. It was then that Harley decided to get her tubes tied, for all of her children were exactly like her. There was no black sheep in her family—save for Colt, but it was okay, because five hellions (including her) were enough. Bumblebee watched Mac when she took her courses during the day, and finally, Harley finally graduated. It was then that she forced—she was one scary woman when on a mission—Twain to hire her and partner with her husband. Colt had no say in it, but truly, her preferred it, for he could keep an eye on the little sneak when she became trigger-happy.

Harley had barley changed since she was seventeen, and still toted the ribbons (even on the job) in her hair. No one knew how to think of her, most debating on if she was adorable or annoying, but people still loved her anyway. At nineteen, her braces had finally come off and her teeth were now straight. She seemed to take on more freckles as time passed, and each of her children took them on as well (they all happened to be blonde, with curly hair and sea-foam eyes, as well).

Colt had not been pleased when Twain ushered his adorable wife into his office and told him she was his new partner, but Harley gave him very little room to decline. She proved to be quite helpful, though most of the time he was banging his head against his desk as she flew into a full blown rage when something went wrong. After awhile, when things became comfortable with having his wife as a colleague, Twain appointed Colt as head detective. It entitled losing Harley as a partner, but it brought in more money. It was a rather dull job, for most cases were minimal compared to eighteen years ago, so he was stuck mostly with simple cases.

Twain was found to be a master at leading the police force, and by the time he had dug his claws into it, the Jump City Police Force was one to be reckoned with. No longer did they depend upon the Titans to do the dirty work, and as it happened, the Titans worked side by side with them. His oldest son, Connor, had found his love to be in Forensic Science, and had just graduated with a Bachelor Degree at the age of twenty-two. Twain had allowed him to dabble in his department, to let him get a feel of real science before he leaped back into school to get his Masters Degree.

And after awhile, though the worry hung over their shoulders, they shoved aside the fear and went on with life. It wasn't perfect, for fights did break out and they had their differences, but all in all, things had gone almost perfectly. Their children grew up to be normal teenagers with normal problems (if sidestepping the fact that the humans grew up around superheroes who were known to use their powers to pummel each other and watching their equally powerful parents pry them apart with their own superhuman strength) and suffered through bouts of everyday problems.

As the eighteenth anniversary of Darcy's death approached, they, even if for a brief moment, forgot about the pain and fear of the White Rose. But life was never kind, and before they could realize it, their fairytale life was coming to a crashing halt.

* * *

"I'm going to kill you, you little heathen!"

Starfire sighed as she sipped her coffee, idly picking a speck of lint from her blouse as her oldest daughter slammed into the main room, eyes alight with fury. "Lucan, I swear on all that is holy, if you do not give me back my diary, I will rip you apart piece by piece!"

Beside her, Robin casually flipped through the newspaper. "Lucan, give your sister her belongings. Sam, don't threaten your brother with bodily harm."

Samara threw her six foot three body into the chair beside her father, angrily tossing her long ponytail behind her shoulder. "Dad, he broke into my room, raided through my underwear drawer, and stole my diary, which he is at the moment reading and giggling like a little girl while looking as gay as he really is."

Robin sighed and peered at his daughter over the paper. Her cheeks were flushed with her anger, scowl twisting at her full mouth as her fingers clenched tightly. She looked so much like him that he found himself shaking his head in wonder. "Lucan!" He called out, fighting back a grin when said boy dragged himself toward him, head lowered and clutching the black book guilty in his hands.

"Don't steal your sister's things, especially when they are in her underwear drawer. And Sam, please, stop calling your eight year old brother gay."

"Yeah, Sam, stop calling your baby brother gay."

Shia walked into the main room with the always present grin and made a beeline for the refrigerator. She scowled at his back, arms folded over her chest. "He stole my diary again, the little brat."

"It's boring though. All it talks about it Christian and how much she _loves_ him." He yelped as Sam dove out of her chair, plucking the diary from his hands and throwing his body over her shoulder. "You. Are. So. Dead."

"Don't get blood all over the floor," Robin said airily as his daughter took her victim into the hall.

Shia chuckled as he kissed his mother's head, as he always did in the mornings, and sat down next to her. "Typical Friday morning." He lazily peeled the skin from his banana as he stretched out his six foot seven frame, legs crossed at the ankles.

"Hmm." Starfire drank the rest of her coffee before climbing up to refill it. It was a nasty habit, but Starfire figured that she needed something strong to kick her system into gear every morning.

"I talked to Christian this morning," Shia said around a mouthful of fruit.

"Really? How's he doing?" Starfire propped a hip against the counters, hands folding around her coffee mug.

"Good. He decided that he's going to come back home and start working at Jump City hospital. Said he rather do his years as a resident at home instead of in a different state."

Starfire smiled. Christian had been away at Harvard for the past eight years, getting his degree in Medical Science. He was only twenty-one, but had the mind of a genius, with an IQ way above two hundred. He had earned his high school diploma at ten and had shipped off to Harvard after scoring the highest SAT score in the last ten years. Starfire had always known there was something different about the boy, for even at the age of two he was amazingly smart. She remembered it clearly, the complete sentences and the scary logic that he had been gifted with at such a young age.

"When is he coming?" She asked, exchanging looks of amusement with her husband. It was a known fact that Samara was madly in love with the boy, though she hadn't seen him in person since Christmas two years before. She had only been sixteen, then, still a lanky little girl trying to decipher feelings she was new to, and Christian had been nineteen. He was mature beyond his age, and had only seen her as a little sister, but it did nothing to stop Samara's full blown crush.

_Wonder what he'll think of her now_, she mused with a slow smile.

"Soon," Shia said with a mischievous grin. "Real soon, actually."

"Does Sam know?" Robin asked, laughing when his oldest child slide him a devilish smirk.

"That will be interesting," Dahlia said from the doorway, arms folded over her chest and eyebrow arched slightly. Despite it being six thirty in the morning, Dahlia was completely dressed, hair still wet from her daily morning shower. Shia smiled at his younger sister, immediately jumping up to wrap her in a bear hug, which he knew she hated.

"How is my beautiful black rose?"

"Suffocating."

He laughed, dropping her back on her feet, but still keeping his arm around her shoulders. "You can keep a secret, right?"

Dahlia looked at him dully. "Gossiping is my forte, you know," she said sarcastically.

Unaffected by her attitude, Shia laughed. "Well, I'm sure you've heard the Christian is coming."

She nodded. "And?"

"Well, he'll be here soon."

Dahlia duck under his arm and moved toward the bowl of fruit on the bar, idly grabbing an apple before rubbing it over her shirt. "So I gather."

Shiamar sighed, narrowly missing Grey as she burst into the room with all the glam of a rock star. "Morning!"

Dahlia cringed slightly. "Where do you get all the bloody energy so early?" She muttered, lazily shoving all of her hair to one side.

Grey grinned, hands on tiny hips. "Same place you get all the sarcasm." She winked at the younger girl, lavender eyes alight with humor. "Hand me one of those, will you?"

She caught the apple easily, immediately crunching into it with vigor as she plopped down beside Robin and plucking the newspaper from his fingers to flip to the comics. Robin blinked down at his empty hands before he sighed and forced himself up to make himself a cup of coffee.

"When's Kira coming to make breakfast?" Grey asked, glaring lightly at Shia when he took his father's seat. "I'm surprised she hasn't started anything yet. She's usually the first one in here."

Shia eyed the apple in her hands before snatching it, turning his back quickly when she let out a surprised, "Hey!" and dove for her food. He bit into it with a grin. "Good, very good."

She scowled, popping him over the head and jerking her treat back away from him. "I'm going to go wake up my lazy ass brother," she pouted, sulkily studying the large bite missing before setting her teeth into it once again.

* * *

Dante Logan groaned in annoyance as he stretched his long body out beneath the covers, clutching a pillow to his chest and trying his best to ignore the pounding at his door.

"Sleeping!" He snapped groggily, jerking to the other side and shoving a pillow over his visible ear.

"Awh, come on, Sleeping Beauty. It's time to wake up."

He scowled beneath the pillow as his older sister burst into his room and leapt onto his bed, bouncing heavily until he was literally tossed off the bed. He grunted when he landed face first on to the wooden floor.

"Rise and shine, Beauty."

Reluctantly, Dante pulled himself off the floor and sat, rather moodily, so he faced his sister. She was sprawled on her stomach, chin cupped in her hands while her feet waved back and forth.

"Do you really have to wake me up like this every morning?"

She smiled and scooted up, gently ruffling his hair. "Of course. If I didn't, you'd hit snooze every time your alarm would go off and sleep the day away. Now, I'm off to see why Kira's not cooking yet."

Dante sighed, rubbing his bleary eyes with the back of his hands. "You depend too much on her, Grey. She thinks it's expected of her to cook every meal in this house."

She sat up, swinging her legs over the bed and scooting off it. "Dante, you really don't know her very well. She likes to do things for us. I guess it makes her feel needed, though we've tried to show her she's more to us than that. Her lack of confidence really scares me," Grey admitted softly, all humor gone. "One of these days she'll be forced into something she doesn't want just to fit in."

He ignored the tug at his heart as he did everyday and stood up, lazily walking to his closet and snatching a pair of faded jeans from a hanger. "Why do you say that?" He asked with a yawn, jerking the jeans over his boxers. He didn't even bother to button them as he bodily threw himself into a chair. He folded his hands over his flat stomach and slouched down.

She picked at the black polish covering her claws. "Richard Stevens is interested in her."

He rolled his neck, cringing when it crack. "And?"

"And, he's known for cornering her in the hallway when no one is around and trying to talk her into a date."

He kept his face neutral as she smoothed down her skirt. "Where are you going with this?" He knew without her answer why it bothered his sister. Richard Stevens had a sickly sweet charm that attracted any female between the ages of ten and eighty. His appeal was almost as strong as Shia's, though the half Tameranian was in a relationship before he slept with them. Dick, as Dante like to call him, took the girl out, wooed her in what little time he knew her, and pounced, throwing up countless skirts and breaking hundreds of hearts when he dropped them the next day, if even that late. If Kiranne finally allowed him to take her out, there was no telling what she would let him do. She was too innocent and too self-conscious to know that the only reason Dick wanted her was because she wouldn't push him off when—there was no _if_ in his mind—he tried something.

Usually, there was always someone around Kiranne to keep him at bay, whether it was her sisters or Grey, but they couldn't follow her around everywhere she went. One of these days, they wouldn't be around, and that bastard would try to work his sleazy charms on her. If he ever got his claws into her, Kira would lose everything, including what little confidence she had in herself. She wouldn't know how to handle a horny male with only one thing on his mind and it rubbed her entire family raw that someone like Stevens would try to pluck every innocent thing about her away because she was a challenge.

Grey threw him a dirty look. "Don't play stupid, Dante. He wants her badly, and there is no telling what lengths he'll go to get her. Poor thing won't know what to do when he tries to get in her pants."

"Grey," he snapped, irritated at the anger that boiled in his veins at the thought. "A little couth, please."

"Well, hell, you know it's true. She hasn't even kissed anyone, much less had to deal with a guy wanting sex from her."

He groaned slightly. "Seriously, Grey, what does this have to do with me? You jumped way off topic here."

Idly, she arranged her long violet hair over her shoulders, plucking at the loose ends. "She loves you, you know."

He frowned as his heart gave an uncomfortable tug. "Grey, stop. You know as well as I that there is no way I can be with her."

"Why?" Grey demanded, leaping off the bed and planting tiny fist on her hip. "Why in the world can't you be with her? What reason do you have to not want her? I know it's not because you don't find her attractive. I mean, look at her! Guys would kill to have her. It's it because she's taller than you in heels? Does it bother you that she's your height, if not a little bit taller? Huh? Is that it?"

Groaning, Dante rubbed his hands over his eyes as his head fell back in aspiration. "It's not that, Grey." He scowled and aimed an annoyed look at her. "Besides, she is _not_ taller than me. I have at least an inch over her, if not more."

Grey fought back a grin that tugged at her mouth at his chagrin. "Whatever. But why? Do you know what it would do to her confidence if you showed some interest in her?"

Annoyed with the conversation they had nearly ever damn morning (Grey was always trying to browbeat him into seeing Kiranne as more than just a friend) Dante pushed out of his rolling chair, angrily fixing his jeans and ripping a random shirt from the closet. As he fought it over his head, he muttered, "She's too damn innocent for me, anyway."

Grey snorted loudly, drawing a very demonic scowl from her baby brother. "Too innocent? _Too innocent_? Dude, you can't be serious! That's the only reason you won't be with her? Because you wouldn't be able to sleep with her without guilt at deflowering her?"

He stared at her. "Did you just say deflowering?"

She frowned at him. "What would you rather I say? Taking her virginity? Popping her cherry?"

"Awh, dammit, Grey, stop that. Don't…_gah_," he said in annoyance, jerking the shirt down over his jeans and running a hand through his black locks. "And it's not just that," he added after a long pause. "You know I'm with someone."

"For sex," she snapped. "What is it with men and being whores? You're one, Shia's one, Chase is one. You all are. I can't believe Adara slept with a guy, though considering it was Cameron…guess I can't fault her for that, seeing as he was a virgin, too. At least he was doing good."

"Does it really matter why I'm with Miranda? So what if it's just for sex? There is nothing wrong with that."

She gave him a withering look. "I can't believe you."

"Look," he said with heat, snatching his brush off the dresser and shoving it through his disheveled hair, throwing it to the floor when it caught on a tangle. He rubbed his sore scalp, his mouth twisted with a frown. "I just…do you know who hard it is to not hurt her? I'm naturally sarcastic, and almost everything I say is taken wrong with her. I'd have to be one guard all the time and weigh my words. It's too troublesome to think about everything before I say it."

He grabbed a cologne bottle, scowled at the label, before spraying it on angrily. Grey was pleased with the scent, even more pleased that he put it on in the first place, before she said, "She does not get hurt by your sarcasm. In fact, she's immune to it. Besides, the only time you talk to her is to fault her for something or other. You always correcting her on what she does and you offer her no praise at all, so yes, she does get hurt by you, but it seems intentional."

"I don't do that," he snapped, but he knew it was true.

"Yes, you do. You never call her Kira, which makes her think you aren't comfortable around her, and refuse to let her do anything for you, which makes her think you don't want her to try and do something nice."

"I don't. I can do things fine on my own. Besides, it annoys me that she's always trying to make others like her by doing their dirty work when all she really has to do is breathe—stop grinning. You look like an idiot," he bit out, irritated with himself for letting that slip.

"I see…you do like her."

"Shove it, Grey."

She grinned, folding her arms innocently behind her back. "Okay. I see, now. Well, I have to go wake our Virgin Goddess—gotta give Chase credit for the cute nickname—and see what's taking her so long." She walked toward the door, happily oblivious of the dirty look he drilled into her back. But before she walked out, she turned to him and smiled. "Just don't feel like a louse when that Dick kid takes away that innocence that it purely Kiranne because you're a whore."

Dante scowled as the door swished closed, arms folded over his chest. "Stupid prying little weasel."

* * *

Kiranne stared at her reflection, mouth turned down in a frown. There wasn't much there, she thought gloomily, gathering her hips length curls in her hand and trying to arrange it sexily, hoping that maybe it would add some allure to her plain face.

She sighed and let the mass tumble down her back. It was no use. There was no way she could appear even half decent. She was just…there. There was nothing that stood out about her, save for the weird eyes. But people took one look at those, labeled it strange, then immediately compared her to her beautiful sisters. They won hands down, leaving her in their shadows as the ugly duckling.

Shoulders sagging, Kira quickly braided her hair, tossing the long length behind her as she moved away from the disheartening mirror. She slipped on her white shoes as she sprayed her favorite perfume on. It had been a gift from her older brother and was one she wore every day. She smiled down at it before putting it back down on her vanity.

Her smile faded, however, when she spotted the clock. It was six forty-five, and breakfast should have been down thirty minutes ago. Kira nearly ran from her room, sliding down the hall and narrowly missing Grey.

"Whoa, there, Kira. What's the rush?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I was late with breakfast. I'll get to it right away." She fought back the urge to bow in shame as she hurried down the hall.

"Kira, don't worry about it. We can always get something on the way to school…" She trailed off with a sigh. "That girl needs to relax."

* * *

Dante was not a happy camper when he walked out of his room, only to have the reason for his troubled mind slam into him, nearly knocking him over in his shock. Instinctively, he reached out to steady her so she didn't force them both to fall.

"Jeez, where's the fire, Kiranne?" He bit back a flinch at the anger in his voice, watching guiltily as the pain that flittered over her unique eyes as her cheeks heated with humiliation.

"I—I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going and…" She bit her lip as she pulled away from him, head lowered. "I'm sorry."

He watched her scurry around the corner, conscious beating him for being such a jackass.

He yelped in surprise when his sister stomped on his foot with her boots, the six inch heels digging into his skin painfully. "Jerk," she sniffed, dainty chin jerking up.

She stomped down the hall, and Dante groaned as he followed.

* * *

Starfire watched in fascination as Kira breezed in with feline ease, immediately heading for the kitchen, where she pulled out the ingredients to make breakfast. "Morning, baby," Robin said from the couch, peeking over to see what was going on.

Kira smiled shyly at him before she cracked open an egg and dumped the content into a huge white bowl. "Ooh, food." Shia run toward her, effortlessly leaping over the counter to watch everything she did. "Need help? I mean, you do have to feed fourteen kids and six adults—"

It was then that the doors opened and kids off all ages poured out, followed by a bed-ragged Beast Boy, an annoyed Raven, a composed Bumblebee, and an excited Cyborg.

Kira blinked, head titled slightly before she went to work, idly handing Shia a cartoon of eggs. She let Shia crack them while she flicked on all six burners and sat large pans on each one. She laid down sausages, and while they cooked, she turned to heat tofu meat and waffles for the vegetarians.

Raven let down her youngest child, watching as the four year old Haven scuttled off to find something of interest, deftly sideswiping Cyborg's twin boys as they jumped into their daily brawl.

Beast Boy drearily sat beside his youngest teenager. "Mornin', Dad," Malachi said, blinking blearily when his father dropped his head onto his shoulder and closed his eyes with a yawn.

The main room roared with the talk of teenagers as they plopped down at the long table, already set with plates, forks, napkins, and glasses. Ada jumped up to grab the orange juice from the fridge as Kiranne deftly flipped the meat, a white dish towel hanging from her shoulder.

Cyborg plucked his two boys up from the floor, effortlessly tossing them into their chairs while they laughed and poked fun at their older sister. Sophie frowned at them, whacking the oldest twin, Racer, over the head with her magazine when he said something rude about her hair.

Raven watched the pandemonium with a smile. It was like this every day, no matter what time it was. Bumblebee stood beside her and sighed. "I wonder if we'll ever get a moments peace."

Starfire patted her back with a laugh. "Never," she said. "I'd have to question my sanity of it ever did get quiet."

"I know that's right," Raven muttered, watching as Kira heaped seven separate bowls full of eggs and sat it down at the table. Hands reached out immediately to grab their food. Swiftly, she sat down the huge plate of meat and managed to pull back just in time as greedy hands darted out.

And as always, Kira set out six different plates, which were meant for the adults. They sat at the bar, always had since the tower because crowded with kids, and dug in. Kira leaned against the counter, far away from others, and picked at her own food. That was the same too, just as it was when Sam picked up her plate, leaped onto the counter beside her shy sister and started a random conversation.

When done, Sam put her plate in the sink, kissed the top of Kira's head, and said, "Thanks, Kiddo." Kira blushed with gratitude as she set her own down.

"Amazing as always, sweetness," Ada said as she plopped down her dirty dishes, leaning over to kiss her sister's cheek with a smack. She was followed by Grey, who did the same, and before she could react accordingly, her brother twisted her around, lifted her off her feet, and kissed her forehead with gusto.

"What would we do without you?" He asked with shake of his head, wide mouth creasing with a grin.

"We'd be lost, that's what." Dahlia said, easily shoving him aside to toss her dishes into the sink. She studied her baby sister, long bangs falling over her eyes. "I swear we'd have a breakdown without her cooking."

Dahlia didn't miss the thankful glint in her brother's eyes as she patted Kira nonchalantly. It messed with heart to see it, for she knew that anyone in the room would risk everything for her baby sister. And she was one of them.

Shia let Kira back down, grinning happily when she flushed scarlet. "Now that is a miracle. You don't get compliments for our favorite darkling very often. She must be in a good mood."

"Screw you, Shia." Came her distant reply from the hallway, where she was on her way to sharpen her daggers.

He chuckled. "Naw, she just loves you."

Kira turned back to the sink, face flaming and a smile tugging at her mouth. It was nice to have everyone thank you in such a way, even if they were only doing it to boost her confidence. What they didn't know was that it was working wonders. She felt loved, which was the only real thing she needed.

Without thinking, she plugged the drain and flicked on the water, pouring in the lavender scented soap as she reached for a sponge to start the dishes. Her heart stumbled to a halt when a large, pale gray hand settled over hers.

"I got it," Dante stated lazily, plucking the lime green sponge from her hand and picking up a random plate. She watched him in fascination as he cleaned it, eyes widening when he handed the soapy dish to her. "Since you want to help so bad, wash it off for me."

He had to fight back a smile when she took it hesitantly, cheeks blooming in a deep blush. It was still there when they both put away the plates. Dante rolled his lavender eyes and pulled his hand back, accidentally brushing his fingers against her. He jumped when fire shot down his arm at the contact. Kira felt it, too, for the dish in her hand fell and shattered on the floor.

The main room went deathly silent, all eyes turned to see what happened. Dante stared at the ceramic stupidly before he sighed, kneeling down to help pick up the pieces. They moved at the same time, however, and their heads slammed together. Behind them, someone snorted as they tried to conceal laughter.

"Ouch," he muttered, hands rubbing the sore spot tenderly. His eyes lifted to Kira and he found her fighting back humiliated tears.

"Hey, come on, now. It's not that bad. It was just a really, really hard bump no the head. No need to cry over it." And without thinking, he reached out to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

Her eyes widened as he realized what he had just done. They both jerked up, Dante moving toward the couch as Kira nearly ran to the hall closet to fetch the broom. "Well," Raven said after a long pause. "That went well."

* * *

Blade wasn't particularly thrilled with Rebecca's daughter, though she did state his lust for the time being. She was pretty, he admitted, but there was no comparison to his Dahlia.

This girl was tiny, her hair much shorter than Dahlia's shoulder length mane. It wasn't even cut the same, so there was no way he could get a good feel for her when imagining her as Dahlia. He knew she would be insulted if she ever found that he could think of her when this slip of a girl was a far cry from his goddess.

He pulled away from her, disgusted when she ran a finger across the scar slashing across his back. "How'd you get this?" She asked, ignoring that dull look her threw at her over his broad shoulder.

"It is of no importance to you."

She shrugged, not at all insulted as she crawled from her bed, completely nude and without a care in the word. "All right. Whatever suits you."

She picked up her discarded underwear and slid it on. "Can I ask you something?"

He grunted as he pulled on his clothes. She took that as an okay, so she plowed forward. "Why are you so obsessed with Dahlia? I mean, you did scream out her name earlier, and it was really rude to do that, so I was wondering what makes her grab your attention. You don't seem like the kind of guy to want someone so badly. Usually, your kind couldn't give a flying freak about anyone."

She pulled her robe together, belting it loosely so it slipped open with the tiniest movement. "It's not too much to ask, right? I mean, I've seen her before. She seems like the kind of girl to kill now, ask questions later. She's a real bitch, too, what with the sarcasm and blink-at-me-wrong-and-I'll-rip-your-head-off look."

She smiled when his shoulders tensed in anger. "Then again, she is nearly untouchable. She won't let anyone near her, emotionally or physically, so I guess she'd be a hell of a challenge. Personally, if I were you, I'd go for Grey. But that's just me."

She sat down at her vanity, idly running a comb through her short black spikes. She watched him from her mirror, waiting patiently while he slid his sword holster over his chest.

"She…is special." He said after a long pause. "Something that I have wanted for years."

"No reason? You just…want her?" She nodded. "Sounds good. I have someone like that, though my reasons just because he's freaking hot."

Blade turned to look at her over his shoulder. "There is more to it than mere lust, woman."

She laughed, twisting in her seat to face him. "Well, then, Blade. Why don't you tell me?"

He turned away, ignoring her completely as he walked to the door. He stopped however, his hand resting on the doorknob. "I want her because it would kill him, to have something so precious stolen from him."

She stared at him, blinking rapidly. "Who? Dahlia doesn't have anyone like that in her life. Does she?"

Blade opened the door, but made no move to walk out. "She does."

"Who?"

She trembled in fear when an evil smile spread over his mouth.

"Chase Twain."

* * *

Eh, not a very good chapter, I admit, but it does help with the plot, especially since Blade has an ulterior motive for wanting Dahlia so bad. Hope it's not too disappointing for a main chapter and sorry for boring you to death with the beginning. 


	4. Chapter Three

Chase Twain liked to think of himself as a decent man. He didn't do drugs, nor did he drink alcohol, and he had been told more than once that he had am amazing personality. He didn't get angry easily and he never allowed himself to judge others because of their looks. He was a bit of a flirt, but he figured there had to be something wrong with him.

He knew he was far from perfect, but this was fine with him. He didn't need the pressure of doing everything right. He had a B average in almost all classes, a few string of A's, carried four years of high school football under his belt (first string defensive lineman, every time) and had an amazing family—that is, if he overlooked his bipolar mother. He had his bad moments, of course, had dealt with stress and pain, but somehow managed to come out of it better.

Memories of the past haunted him, but he refused to let anyone know of his sorrow, for he couldn't stand other to see him so down. In public, he was outgoing and kind, mingling with anyone who happened to look at him, regardless of how others classed them. At home, when no one was around, he let his guard drop and tried desperately to stop the pain in his heart at past occurrences.

He admitted that he was a horrible womanizer, but he never purposely hurt them. He stayed in a few relationships, was completely faithful, and when it came time to end it, he gave them fair warning and kind words. He wasn't very fond of relationships, however, for he did not like to be tied down to anyone. All women he had been previously involved with knew of his preference to stay single, but never minded. There were those slight few who would not accept this and tried to wrangle him down, but had been unsuccessful as of yet.

Chase was content with his existence. He understood where his place was in life, was proud of the family who had raised him. His siblings were his life, even if his oldest brother did greet him with bruises and random noogies when he came home from college.

As he grabbed his car keys from the glass bowl on the wooden table beside the front door, he mused that he was lucky to have such a simple life. It was far from normal (especially considering he was in league with the most amazing group of teenage superheroes to ever grace the planet), but hey, it added suspense and a helpful dose of mystery.

He hopped contentedly down the stone stairs leading to the front yard, eyes instantly drilling onto his favored car. It was a classic, a sleek black 2007 mustang, custom built with the best stereo system he could afford on his wage. Raven Logan paid her employees well, even if he was just a stage-manager for _The Raven's_ main attraction. It was her daughter, Grey Logan, that made it possible for him to earn so much, he admitted as he climbed into his baby. She had a voice that was almost too beautiful to listen to. It was a gorgeous alto that had a range from hell. She could use it to do any type of song: County, Rock, Opera (she only did that to annoy her brothers and Shia, who hated high pitched sounds) but her favorite was soft, dark mellow tunes. She was a musical genius, as well. She wrote her own music, played her own songs on piano, and was known to come up with at least two songs every week.

So, in a way, it was Grey who helped earn his car, though he wouldn't admit it aloud. This car was the one thing he could really call his own. He paid for everything, including gas and insurances. His father, the amazing ass he was, was right when he forced his son to take care of himself. It made him feel accomplished, to know that he could pay for his own car with his own money. It helped that he had a job that he loved, even if part of it was being a busboy and wiping down the booths.

Chase was flipping through songs on his stereo's hard-drive when his identical twin opened the door, followed closely by his two younger siblings. Cam threw him an apologetic look at him when Caden roughly shoved his sister into the backseat. "Sorry," he mumbled, his voice as deep as his twin. "Connor's coming in today and mom's making a mad dash to clean up the house, though it won't do much, considering we live with Dad."

Colt scowled when his baby sister accidentally shoved her elbow into his skull while trying to regain her balance. "Oye, Smallfry, watch it. You'll mess up the do." For good measure, he dramatically patted his blonde spikes.

Cleo paused to throw her brother a droll glare that had him laughing. "Hey, it's better than that mop you call hair," he added with an adorable smirk.

She scowled, throwing her tiny body against the seat and reaching up to stroke her long braid. "You only wish you could have this, Chase." She turned fiery black eyes to thirteen year old Caden. "And you. Push me again and I'll make sure that the entire world knows you have an obsession with Talon Davis." She picked at her cuticle offhandedly as her brother blushed and sputtered next to her.

"Though I will never understand what you see in the little blonde demon," Chase muttered as Cameron snickered beside him. "She's a freaking wild child. I never have seen anyone cause so much pandemonium. She is the only girl I have ever met who will literally jump you and sink her little fangs into you. Not even Grey does that, and she's a freaking shape shifter."

"Hey, guess what?" Cleo asked, poking her head between the seats and ignoring the sharp tugs on her braid from her wide-eyed brother. "Did you know that Mom found them making out last night—"

"_Cleo_!" Cade grabbed the back of her shirt, bodily jerking her back against the seats as she yelped in surprise. Cam and Chase exchanged bewildered looks, black eyes wide with surprise and wide mouth's parted.

"What? You made out with spitfire Talon and she _let _you?" Chase managed to ask around the hysterical laughter that tickled the back of his throat. "And I didn't know about this? How did you manage that?"

Blood burning beneath his skin, Caden leaned back against the leather seats with a demonic scowl; lanky shoulders bowing forward in his trademark sign of fury. "First off, Cleo, you damn tattletale, it's none of your damn business what I do, and the next time you run off and tell Mom a damn thing about what Tally and I do while hiding in my closet, I'll tell them about the little kiss you stole from Cody Matthews while no one was looking and then hold it over your head for the rest of your life because you annoy me."

Normally, Chase would have scolded him from using his favorite word so many times in one run on sentence but this new juicy gossip about his younger siblings was too heady to pass up. "Wait, Munchkins. Hold on and start from the beginning. Okay, Cade first, because we all knew this would happen sooner or later. You made out with Talon…at fourteen…and Mom found you and you're not dead?" This did not make any sense. When Katelynn found him lip locked with his first girl, he had suffered from a knot on the head for weeks.

Chase flinched at the memory, hand reaching up to rub the phantom pain it brought on. But that was nothing compared to the time she found him experiencing his first time with Dana Wyatts in _The Raven's_ store room…

He jerked out of his painful memory when Cade snapped, "I did not make out with her. It was a kiss, that's all."

Bubbling with excitement, Cleo popped up again, black eyes bright with energy. "Oh, it was more than that. She said you should try adding your tongue this time—"

"For the love of God, shut up you little monster!" Cade slapped a hand of her mouth while his eyes darted to his older brothers. "Don't listen to her, she's crazy—yeouch!" With a yelp, Caden jerked his hand away from her sharp teeth, gingerly rubbing the reddening marks.

"This time?" The twins echoed, eyebrows arching into their hairline.

"Yep, yep, yep. She said she saw Cameron and Adara going at it when they thought no one was around and said it looked kinda interesting and—"

Chase guffawed as his twin flamed red. "S-she saw us? W-when did this happen? That was…all she saw, right?" Cameron groaned when Cleo gave a swift shake of her head and chirped, "No, she said that all she could see was their faces because he was real close to her with her legs wrapped around his hips and that he was moving really fast against her—"

"Chase, drive, we'll be late for school." Cameron slouched down in his seat as Caden thanked God for being jerked off the hot seat and letting Cam have a shot at it. After all, he had just made out with Talon. His brother had been caught having sex with his girlfriend by said girl and having his gossipmonger sister hear it.

"Cleo, if you ever tell anyone about that I will personally toss you into a closet and throw away the key."

She blinked innocently as she reached a slim arm forward to turn up the music. The hard beat of Korn pounded through the air as Chase pulled out of the driveway.

"Come now, let's hear about this little kiss you had with Cody." Chase bit the inside of his lip to stop the grin that threatened to bloom when she moved back slowly, face heating.

"It…was nothing, really. Just a kiss, is all."

"You're eleven."

"So? There are kids at my school who are already thinking about sex and stuff. I know one girl who is already pregnant. She's only two years older than me, too."

This time it was Caden who popped forward, mouth twisting in a sadistic grin. "See? Cleo's already planning on buying her first box of condoms and you're worried about me."

"What?" Since he was driving, it was Cam who twisted around in his seat to pin a deadly glare at the wide-eyed eleven year old.

"Whoa-ho-ho, now, let's not jump to conclusions. I kissed him once. It wasn't even that long, and believe me, there was no tongue at all. I just thought it would be nice to have my first kiss be with him, and I knew I would have to do it 'cause he's so shy and all. I'm not thinking about that. Gawd, you perverts. Always thinking nasty while I think innocently. Tch," she muttered, arms crossing over her adolescent chest. "'Sides," she added when Cam gave a final glare and settled back in his seat, "Ada said that if I even thought about sex, she'd murder me and no one would find my body…" Cleo frowned slightly. "Come to think of it, everyone seems to be threatening me…"

"The only superhero girl whose had sex and she's telling you to stay away from temptation," Chase said thoughtfully as he merged with the morning traffic. "And she's sleeping with your brother, nonetheless. Gotta give the girl props, though."

Her uneasiness quelled, Cleo shoved her brother out of the way to slide her head between them again. "Yeah, she said that she didn't regret having sex, and she said that she knew Cameron was the one and it was gonna happen away, but she said that Grey was right in telling all the girls to wait until marriage 'cause she said that it was more special if your husband gets it than some other dude."

"You're girl has a good head on her shoulders, considering she _is_ with you." Chase chuckled when Cam smacked his arm. "Hey, now, I'm driving. If you make me wreck, I will woo your girl away from you."

Cameron snorted, fully aware that if he tried, he would probably be successful. He wasn't worried, one because Ada had made it perfectly clear to him that she never thought about being with anyone else, and secondly because his brother would never stoop so low as to take his girl away. Besides, Chase was too busy trying to decipher his feelings for her sister.

"So, you still in denial about Dahlia?" Cameron didn't miss the way his brother's broad shoulder's stiffened or the gray tint of hesitance that fogged his black eyes.

"Denial about what? There's nothing between her and me besides animosity." His big hands tightened over the wheel, the knuckles turning a faded white. "Dahlia would rather use me as a target board than even look at me."

"Not necessarily. I mean, yeah, you two are constantly at it with the taunts and insults, and sure, she does tend to target you when Robin has us play dodge-ball to hone our agility, but look at Shia and Grey. They're like that with each other. Save they're not as violent. By the way, how's that bruise?"

Chase scowled, eyes briefly fluttering to his jean-clad hip. Beneath the material, a nasty yellow bruise bloomed across the tan skin. "Hurts like a bitch, but it's healing."

Cameron glanced out the window to try to mask his grin. "She did pop you hard with that dodge-ball."

Mood souring, Chase flipped through the songs until he landed on one that matched his mood. Above the dark lyrics of Killswitch Engage's "When Darkness Falls", he said sulkily, "Those damn padded balls are useless when in the hands of a moody Tameranian."

"At least Kira didn't hit you. Now she hurts, though it's sort of worth it when she immediately goes to make sure she didn't break anything. Heh, Dante's face gets me every time. He doesn't know whether to push her off or purr as she runs her fingers over the bruise."

Momentarily forgetting about the one confusion in his life, Chase snickered. "Yep. He has it bad, trying to figure if he's annoyed with her or if he wants to cart her off into a different room and take her."

"Betcha it's the latter."

Chase turned into the school parking lot, idly lifting a hand when a group of girls called out his name. "You ever think he'll screw the fact that she's a virgin and just take her?"

"I don't know. Dante's…complex, no matter how simple he swears his life is. She confuses him more than anyone and it drives him insane. Sometimes I think he's in love with her, and then he goes off and makes it seem like she's just another human in his little world."

Chase slid his car between two sleek cars, both brand new and reeking of money. His was an eyesore compared to the 2023 models, but he was content with this, for it made his little mustang all the more unique. "He's going to be real sorry when Stevens finally get his claws into her and take it for himself. Wonder how he'll react to our little Virgin Goddess giving that up to someone like him." His eyes slipped over the crowd that mingled around the Jump City High School courtyard before his eyes softened. "Speak of the devil," he said with a grin before bounding off toward said girl, who had just climbed out of the monstrosity that was the carpool for the Titans.

Kiranne barely had time to let both feet touch the ground before Chase stepped into her line of view and lifted her into their customary hug. He kissed the top of her head gently. "How's our little Virgin Goddess doing?"

And as always, she blushed at the nickname. "I…good," she said with a soft smile, and Chase swore his heart melted in his chest. No matter how much he thought about it, he was madly in love with Kira. There was nothing romantic about it, and Chase could never think of doing anything other than hugging her, but Kira had grabbed hold of his heart along time ago. There was something about her that made him feel light, which made his entire day brighter just with a small tip of her mouth or shy flutter of eyelashes. She was, he knew, the only reason why the past didn't drag him under and bury him beneath sharp tendril of sorrow.

He smiled as Dante moved beside them with a bored yawn. Despite his lazy posture, however, something dark flashed in his violet eyes. "You really need to find a new nickname, Chase. Virgin Goddess isn't something you want to call out for everyone to hear."

Chase watched the blush creep up her neck as she dipped her forehead against his chest. "Awh, come on. Kira doesn't mind, do you? 'Sides, it is the perfect name for her. She's the epitome of all that is good in this world." He gave a dramatic sigh. "Who knows what the world comes to when Stevens gets her."

Deftly, he slipped a muscled arm around her waist and pulled her toward the three story school building, deftly ignoring the furious aura that suddenly licked at Dante in angry flames. "I just might have to snatch you up before he gets a chance," he added loudly, making damn sure Dante heard.

"Touch her and I will gladly rip you to shreds, Twain."

The familiar heat slipped down his torso as he turned to Dahlia, arm still secured around her sister, who was wringing her slim hands together in embarrassment. He swore he could feel the blush spread over her back as he angled his head. "Jealous, are we?"

"Of you? Hardly. But I won't have you tainting my sister with your body." Her green eyes were as composed as usual as a smirk danced across her wide mouth. "There's no reason to punish the poor girl."

"Oh, you wound me with your callous words," he gasped melodramatically, the back of his hand splayed over his tan forehead. "How shall I ever recover?"

"Speaking of," she said slowly, reaching out her arm and wrapping her hand around his bicep to keep him from leaving. "How's the war wound?"

Kira gracefully wiggled out of his grasp as Dahlia stood before him, her eyes nearly level with his. She pulled back slightly to run her eyes down his covered torso. "  
It's fine," he said cautiously, perfectly aware of the fact that Dahlia didn't ask about healing wounds unless she was ready to add another one.

Her eyes lifted to his and his heart dropped at the very sultry, very malicious glint that colored them a bright bottle green. "Really? You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?"

Chase blinked down at her as she jerked his shirt from his pants and lifted it high to inspect the bruise. "Hmm," she said dryly as the group of girl he had waved to earlier stopped to gawk. "Nasty looking, isn't it?"

He was too busy fighting back a blush to care about the giggles irrupting around him. "Yeah, almost as nasty as the personality behind the wound-er."

Her eyes fluttered to his in amusement as she tugged at the band of his jeans to completely inspect the yellow-green skin. "Ouch. I think that might have actually hit a sore spot."

Despite his embarrassment, Chase chuckled at the sarcasm dripping from her tone. It died, however, when she ran a long, calloused finger over his hip bone. "It's healing," she murmured, noting the way his eyes went midnight and his jaw clenched. "I hit you pretty hard."

He said nothing, merely glanced down at the finger that danced slowly across his skin. His breath hissed between his teeth when she patted it roughly. "But not hard enough, it seems." With what seemed like a smile, she jerked his shirt down and tugged him foreword to tuck it back in.

He flinched as she proceeded to reach around him to secure his shirt back into place. "For someone who seems to hate the sight of me, you sure do love to touch me."

Something heated flashed in her usually guarded eyes, but it was gone too soon for him to interrupt him. Instead, her mouth curved up at the corners as she leaned in to nip at his jaw. She did smile when he jerked in surprise and patted his butt as she turned away from him, linking her arm around her shocked sister and tugging her forward.

Over her shoulder, she called, "Just because I hate you doesn't mean I don't think you're sexy."

Dante clucked his tongue as he patted Chase's ridged shoulder. "Well, at least she thinks you're _hot,_" he said with flourish, chuckling and shoving his hands into his jean pockets. It was his way, Chase knew, of getting back at him for his jib at taking Kira.

Sam raised an eyebrow as she moved beside him, overhearing her usually detached sister's comment from the van. "Wow…I think that's the nicest thing she's every said to you."

"Uh-huh," he managed to say over the roaring in his ears. Gently, he touched a hand to his jaw, blinking rapidly. "Did she just _bite_ me?"

* * *

With a heavy sigh, Starfire rubbed her pounding temples and tried to keep her eyes from crossing at the stack of papers lined up along her desk. Report card grades were to be posted in exactly two days, and she was three days behind in grading thanks to constant workshops that were mandatory in her teaching career. She had managed to grade a number of tests, but she still had at least ninety more to go after the hundred and two she had just graded.

It didn't help that prom was weeks away and students were bubbling with excitement, especially those seniors who were to graduate in less than two months. With a sinking rock weighing down in her stomach, Star realized that her two oldest babies were in the group of the excited.

"I'm getting old," she mumbled with a groan, head dropping to rest on her outstretched arm.

"Well, old lady, let me give you a hand with all those papers so you don't fry your ancient brain."

Starfire glanced up to see her oldest daughter prop a muscled hip against her desk and idly flipped through a stack of papers. Starfire glanced momentarily at her class, all staring wide-eyed at the sudden intrusion of her daughter. It was normal, however, so after a few seconds they relaxed, but never stopped watching. It was standard as well, for her fourth period class was filled to the brim with boys. Not a single girl was enrolled in this class, which Starfire moped over quite frequently. It was bad enough having them watch her butt more than what she wrote on the blackboard, but having them fawn over her daughters when they popped up uninvited? Not good.

Starfire glared. "Why aren't you in class? And don't call me old," she added after a pouting pause. "I'm only thirty-six."

Sam smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead before happily plopping down at her mother's computer. Her gold eyes skimmed over the class. "Whatcha doing in here today?"

Starfire plucked the papers from her daughter's grasp and clicked them against the desk to straighten them. "We're watching an old DVD on the Tameranian wars."

"Ah. No one is watching, you know."

Starfire sent her male student a heated glare and their eyes instantly jumped to the ancient flat screened TV screen built onto the opposing side of the blackboard. "You're taking notes on this, so start watching it. If you're not careful, I might just quiz you and take away the next video I had planned." Eyes alight with humor, Starfire turned to her daughter. "Do you think they'd be interesting in the process of Tameranian mating rituals?"

Fighting back a smile, Sam took the papers once again, eyes skimming over the questions. She knew each answer by heart and plucked a pen off the desk to start grading. "Naw, don't think they'd like it. It's pretty explicit. They'd be bored out of their minds."

Immediately, the scratch of pen against paper sounded as ink flowed and the boys of all grades suddenly became interested in the history of the first major war of Tameran. "Better," Starfire mused, nodding in approval as she grabbed an extra pen.

There was a moment of silence between the two redheads, save for the droning voice of the narrator of the film. Starfire broke it when she glanced up with furrowed brows. To make sure no one overheard their conversation, Starfire slipped into Tameranian. "Why _aren't_ you in class?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly as she flipped through another paper, naturally switching languages. "Mr. Bower told me I could come since he's so proud of my sketch. Told me that I was too good for the likes of him and it annoyed him to see more talent than he had the pleasure of ever seeing. He's daft, if you tell me. It was only a doodle I did during Eco."

"You're very talented with a pen, Samara. There's something exceptional to your tone."

Sam brushed off the comment with a shrug but a pleased blush graced her golden cheeks. "Eh, he said I should send it off to a university. He's recommended me to a few already."

Stacking the graded papers to the side, Starfire asked, "Is that what you want to do with your life? Art?"

Sam gnawed on her full lip as she swiveled around in the chair. "I don't know," she admitted softly. "I…don't think it poses enough of a real challenge for me. I love drawing, but not enough to dedicate my life to it."

Starfire smiled as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her long legs and reaching for her canned soda to sip at it idly. "So, then, what do you want to do, my little genius?"

Sighing, she leaned forward to let her fingers fly over the computer keys, eyes never leaving her mother's. Impressed, Starfire waited patiently as Sam debated on her answer.

"Do you remember that journal I kept when I was younger?"

Starfire nodded and sat the drink down on the mahogany desk. "Yes. You always required at least two every month. By the time you were thirteen, you had accumulated over sixteen of them."

Now she turned her gold eyes to the screen, scanning the text she had written to find possible mistakes. Finding none, she folded her hands demurely in her lap. "It was a novel," she admitted sheepishly, which confused Starfire. Sam never felt awkward about anything. She was very independent and strong willed, never thinking of what others thought of her actions. Why would a novel she had written during her younger years make her so flustered?

"I…want to write…novels." She laced her fingers together, propping her stubborn chin against them. "I've always had an avid fascination for painting words onto paper and creating an atmosphere out of my own mind. It's why I joined the newspaper. Journalism is amazing, but writing…It's a challenge and simple all at the same time. I'll sit in my room and write until my eyes droop. All those notebooks? I've spent the past two years editing the mistakes, adding text and illusion to it all until it blends together into what I hope is a real novel. Is it…stupid to want that? I mean, I know I have the will to spend hours and hours on end writing, but what if it's not good enough?"

"Samara Grayson, since when have you started doubting your abilities? Last time I checked, the last time you did that you forced yourself to learn how to use a sword with your right hand until you couldn't lift it anymore."

Sam smiled at the memory. "I'm pretty hardheaded, aren't I?"

Starfire gave a snort of laughter, ignoring the love-sick eyes of her students as she reached over to pat her daughter's head. "Sweetheart, you have the hardest damn skull I've ever seen next to your father's. You a stubborn donkey, too."

Sam snickered. "Don't you mean stubborn _ass_?"

Starfire waved an airy hand and planted her foot against the chair her daughter sat in, giving it a firm push so she could sidle to the computer. "Twenty-three years on earth and I still have trouble with the language."

Sam hopped up from the chair to peer over her shoulder as Starfire peck in the grades. "I'm gonna go get Kira from class."

"Hmm, only if she's not doing anything. I don't want you to pull her from class if there is something important going on."

Sam plucked her mother's drink from the desk, taking a large swig and saying airily, "Awh, she's in Mr. Mayson's class. 'Sides," she added with a chuckle. "She has that class with Dante."

* * *

He was staring at her neck again.

Kiranne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her slim hand rising to her throat, fingers dancing softly across the jagged scar. He knew how much she hated it when someone stared, but he had a habit of doing exactly what she didn't want.

Her unique eyes slid over to him, cupid-bow mouth turning down into a slight frown as her face heated. But those lavender eyes were watching her now, his unnaturally pretty mouth curved behind his hand. His index finger was arched above his upper lip as he slouched down in seat, long legs spread on either side of the desk.

Kira's back stiffened in embarrassment, causing his smile to become a lazy grin. Shoulder's squared; the six-foot-one redhead stared ahead with slightly narrowed eyes, forcing her mind to concentrate on the lecture her teacher was giving. _Come on, Kira_, she chastised herself, unconsciously lifting her pen and chewing on the top. _You're grades are bad enough as it is. You need to pay attention. This is the year that really counts…It doesn't matter if you passed all your exit exams. If you fail this class, you'll have to take it your senior year and that'll really give everyone a reason to see how stupid you really are. Stop thinking about Dante staring at you. He's just doing it to be a jerk. _

_Ouch, _came the mental reply of her long time love. _Now was insulting me really necessary? I did nothing wrong to earn such blatant disrespect. _

Kira bit back a squeal, but couldn't keep her extraordinarily long body from jumping.

_D-Dante… _she stuttered, teeth tightening against the innocent blue cap of her pen as she fought to push down her nervousness. She always became tongue-tied when speaking to him, even if it was in her mind.

"Mr. Logan, are you listening to me?"

Dante glanced up slowly at his teacher. "Not really."

He felt his eyebrow lift when the class roared with laughter. He didn't find his answer funny at all. He was merely telling the truth.

But Kira's mouth lifted slightly, and for some reason, Dante felt like digging himself deeper into his crater of bad behavior with teachers.

"Dante!" Mr. Mayson, the U.S. History teacher, snapped.

He blinked slowly. "Huh?"

"Manners, please, if you don't mind. There are actually students in here who wish to become a senior next year. Now, as I was saying—"

And Dante shut him out again, Kira noticed, watching the way his lavender eyes shifted around the room. Berating herself for staring, Kira sat straighter in her seat and jotted down the notes Mr. Mayson had scrawled on the black board.

She was in the midst of actually learning something about World War II when she felt his eyes again. She tried to act cool and pretend to ignore him, but she felt the telltale blush blossom along her skin and dip into her shirt.

She heard him chuckle lowly and slid down into her seat. "Mr. Logan, what is so funny, might I ask? Is the slaughter of innocent people amusing? Do you find war and death and hardship hilarious?" Mr. Mayson set his hands on scrawny hips, thin mouth turning down in a frown.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she was him grin, hand still over his mouth. "No, it's not funny at all."

Mr. Mayson's noise twitched as he shoved up his glasses, dark hair tumbling over the simple frames. He tossed it away with an impatient flick of his wrist before turning to the board again, but not before he slid an annoyed glare at Dante. "No more interruptions, Mr. Logan."

"Sure, sure."

Kiranne Grayson sighed softly, leaning down on her desk and shoving all ten fingers through her wild mass of red curls as she listen to Mr. Mayson's excited voice. At the moment, she was balancing precariously on a seventy average. If she didn't listen and take note on what her teacher was saying, she'd flunk the next test and drop her grade into the sixties, which would mean losing her job briefly at _Logan's Leaf_ and disappointing her parents once again.

She didn't understand why she couldn't grasp such a simple subject. It did not help that she was frequently being called out of class to stop a robbery or help with a wreck, but she shouldn't be failing. Dante was passing this class, and every other person for that matter, with flying colors despite the fact that he was lazy and—

_Ouch. What's with the sudden slams at me, huh?_

Kira jumped again, barely suppressing a yelp, and slammed her knee against the metal leg of the desk. She held her breath as the pain died down to a steady thrum before sliding her eyes to Dante.

_I would…prefer if you stay out of my head, Dante. _

Gently, she reached down to rub her sore knee. _Well, I wouldn't have to pick through your brain if you didn't blush and stammer every time I try to talk to you in person. I realize I'm hot, but seriously. You don't have to be afraid of me. _

_I—I'm not afraid of you._ She slid her eyes toward him, heart pounding a heavy tempo against her ribs as his eyes strayed to her neck again. She let her eyes slip closed for a brief moment to control the unruly organ.

_Kiranne, look. I know you're still fidgety about what happened this morning at breakfast, but—_

And then she was blushing again, heat crawling against her skin as her heart leapt into her throat at the remembrance of his long warm fingers skimming across her skin as he wiped away a stray tear—

She was ripped from the thoughts when a sharp knock rapped against the door. Kira jerked in her seat and snapped up straight, hastily shoving back a wild curl that dangled over her left eye.

Mr. Mayson blinked when Sam walked in with a simple confidence that seemed to fill the entire room with a glow of contentment. "Hey, do you mind if I steal Kira away?"

Kira decided to forgo the straight posture as she slid down in her seat as all eyes turned to her. Mr. Mayson looked unsure. "Well…I'm in the middle of a lecture at the moment—"

"Tests are over, Mr. Mayson. She's passed everything she's needed to so she can graduate."

"Yes, I'm aware of this, but as you know, she barely skimmed through it. She was lucky to pass at all."

Kiranne suppressed the urge to dig a hole and bury herself beneath the soil. Was it really necessary to say that? Couldn't they have said it gently, instead of talking in normal tones?

Sam frowned slightly as she shifted on her feet, eyebrows drawn together and fingers lifting to trace her bottom lip, a sure sign that she was in the midst of trying to study the field and find a way around the obstacle.

Knowing the look from the previous year, Mr. Mayson sighed. "Fine. I'll let it slide this time, but only because she did stop that blockhead from tossing my car at the school building." Then he smiled wickedly. "I'll just have Dante write down the rest of my notes."

Said boy snapped up in his seat. "Hey, that's not fair. I'm not even writing my own notes, much less someone else's."

Mr. Mayson plucked the notebook from Kiranne's desk and held it between two fingers, dangling it above the scowling shape-shifter. "Then it will be your fault when she fails this class and has to take it her senior year."

Dante gawked at the smirking teacher. "Oh, yeah, let's pin that on me." Despite his grumbling, Dante jerked the book from the teacher's hand as Sam ushered her sister out of the room.

"Thanks, Mr. Mayson."

He waved them away with a flick of his wrist before turning back to the board and started his lecture up once again. Sam shut the door behind them with a click, a smirk sliding over her features as she turned back toward her sister. "There. That was simple. Now you can skip legally with me and still be able to pass. Dante won't let you have a chance of failing."

Kira nodded slightly as she followed her sister down the maroon and white hallway. It wasn't until she reached her mother's room that she realized that the notebook she had been writing in was the same on in which she professed her long withstanding love for Dante Logan.

* * *

Gizmo really wasn't sure what motivated him to suddenly hate the Titans enough for him to plot murder, but he realized that whatever it was happened to be alarmingly strong. He found himself dreaming of killing the girl day and night. His world seemed to revolve it. He ate, drank, slept with ideas coursing through his mind.

Problem was he wasn't sure how to go about it. There were very few chances in which the girl was alone, for she was either with her siblings or that boy. She with him constantly, and Gizmo found he didn't have the heart to kill them both; else he would have done away with them long ago when they sneaked off to have sex every weekend.

He decided, as he injected the hormone into his artificially muscular arm, that it would be technologically planned. Guns were overrated, and drugs didn't seem fair enough to either of them. He wanted to leave his signature upon her dead body. He wanted others to know he was the one who defeated her, that he was the one who finally got rid of one of the Titan's children.

Rebecca sat at his metal desk, watching as he tossed the useless syringe away. "What was that for?" She asked, craning her head to peer at the towering walls of gleaming metal and state of the art mechanics.

"An artificial stimulator. I designed it with tiny nanobots that pump my muscles and keep them hard. It increases strength as well. So long as I inject myself with this every other day, I stay strong without all the hassle of working out."

"Oh," she said, studying the innocent bottle with a tilt of her blonde head. "Intriguing."

"Hmm." Gizmo threw his bulky body into the seat across from hers, cringing slightly as the hormone took affect, masterfully enlarging his muscles. "Why are you here?"

Rebecca studied him, eyes raking over his form. "There's something about you that has me captivated. I don't know what it is, but you seem like someone who can get the job right."

He leaned back, arm casually thrown over the back of the metal chair. "Depends on how much I want it."

"You must want this pretty badly, then. You seemed quite sure you wanted to kill Adara Grayson. Might there be a reason for your madness?"

He smiled, and Rebecca found that it almost made him approachable. "Not one that I can really think of. I've always despised the Teen Titans for customary reasons. They took my comrade away from me."

A perfectly arched brow shot up. "They killed someone?"

Gizmo snorted. "No. They turned her into one of them."

Rebecca flinched, gently reaching out to lay her hand against his. "Ouch. That had to be hard for you."

His eyes hardened as the hand beneath hers fisted. "The damn whore went out a married one of them, too."

Suddenly, flashes of pink ran through her mind. "Ah. I remember her. Jinx. Pretty big media affair. She was the main topic for awhile. Didn't she get pregnant at sixteen?"

She kept her face composed as he reared up, tossing the chair into the wall with a roar of anger. "That fucking bitch left us all just to screw around with that damn redheaded bastard. Jinx wouldn't let anyone else touch her when she was with us, but the second he comes along; she's spreading her legs wide and gets knocked up immediately."

"I take it you wanted her?"

His glare was stony as he leaned against the desk, hands digging into the metal. "Who didn't? We all wanted her. She was the only one any of us could get our hands on, but no one had a chance. That stupid Flash pops up with a stupid rose and she's gone for good."

Interesting, Rebecca mused as she propped her elbows on the table. "Have you heard from her?"

"No. Last time I saw her, she was telling us she was through being a criminal and that she was made for more than robberies and theft. Damn woman looked too happy do be so dark."

"Hmm. Is she still married?"

"Hell yes. They got a couple of kids. Don't know where they are, but they're probably still screwing like horny rabbits."

Lips twitching, Rebecca slipped off the chair to walk behind him, idly tracing her fingers against his tensed shoulder blades. "Have you thought about her?"

Gizmo frowned slightly, mind racing. The woman behind him was sinister, that was for sure, but there was something else about her, something off and not all together rational. Her mind stepped over the boundary of evil and to that of the insane. A part of him was content with the path that he had chosen, but there was something nagging at the back of his mind…

"No. She was the past."

He could feel her smile as she ducked beneath his arm and hopped up onto the desk. Her slim legs slid around his waist, pulling tightly to bring his against her. "But she's the reason for your desire to murder Adara Grayson."

His eyes drifted down to where their bodies melded. "In a way, yes."

"You live in the past, as do most people. I've always loved that."

Legs still secured around his hips, Rebecca leaned forward to trace his abdomen. "My past refuses to be buried, and I can't see the future clearly without being dragged back down. Those women…everything was supposed to go on smoothly. Things would have been fine if they'd of never have gotten involved. I had always wanted them. I followed their movements when they became a team, knew of the pain and struggles. I didn't really plan on having the White Rose soar to such heights, but _oh_, it was worth it." Her voice went soft and deep as she leaned her forehead against his chest. "They were so damn arousing. All of them. They were trying so hard to be the heroes the world wanted. But when I got my hands on them…they were so human, so vulnerable. I was sure…we were all sure that we had them. But we underestimated them. We thought that, despite their strong bodies, their will was weak.

"We were wrong. Not only are their bodies strong, but their spirit. We were unaware of this fact. Most heroes have weakness. Back then, they had none. But now," she said, her mouth smoothing out in a malicious grin. "Now, they are at their weakest point."

Gently, she leaned up to brush her mouth against the hard line of his. "Their children are their weaknesses. Now, after eighteen years, I'll finally be able to rid myself of the past and grasp the future."

Her hands dipped down his chest, tracing lower and lower until her finger hooked into the band of his jeans. "And the only way to save my future is to destroy theirs." He watched her eyes go black with insanity. "It damned time I end their little fairytale world. Tomorrow, Gizmo, I plan to start my own future. The Titans children will die by my own determination."

She grinned. "I think it's high time I make that redhead bitch pay."

* * *


	5. Chapter Four

By the time the bell for first lunch sounded, Kira was well on her way to having a panic attack.

Her palms were sweaty and her throat seemed to close, blocking all possible air entry. How could she of let this happen? Her entire _life_ was in the stupid notebook that was now in the hands of the first and only boy she had ever been attracted to. What if he was thumbing through it now, face disgusted as read her heartfelt words and sappy poems?

She knew she looked like an idiot as she buried her head against her folded arms, soft mewls rumbling in her throat. Thankfully, the sound of the still-playing movie muffled most of the pitiful sounds, but it wasn't enough to mute them completely.

Starfire stared at the puddle of mush that was her daughter with a frown. She leaned toward an equally befuddled Sam and whispered in Tameranian, "What happened?"

Sam gave a jerky shrug, golden eyes narrowing at the clogged doorway where the previous class lingered in curiosity. "Dunno. She was fine when we walked here, then suddenly, she crashes and falls into what has to be the finest display of anguish I have ever seen. It's like she's…dunno," she added as an afterthought when no explanation came forth.

Another quite mewl sounded and both mother and daughter sidled closer. Sam threatened the boys with a deep, rumbling growl, face softening when they scampered away. Gently, Starfire laid her hand on Kira's shoulder. "Honey, what's wrong? Why are you so down? Did that donkey—I mean _ass_—try to make another attempt at…scoring with you?"

Starfire threw a nasty glare at Sam's muffled snort of laughter. "Samara," she hissed. "Stop making fun of me. It's not nice. Help me with your sister before I make you clean up my classroom."

Sam bit her full lip hard to stifle the chortles that ticked the back of her throat. "Right, right," she said with a wave of her tan hand, "sorry."

With another deadly scowl, Starfire returned to cooing at Kiranne's unknown plight. "Come on, baby, tell me what's wrong."

"Hi, Mom. How's it going?" Shia paused in his approach to his mother's desk when he spotted the bundle of red curls draped over the mahogany. He blinked as his twin pressed a finger to her mouth with a glare.

"Sshh, loudmouth. Sit down and shut up. We have a Kira dilemma here."

Shia scooted over to his sister, plopping down elegantly beside her chair with a pout. "What's going on?"

Sam shrugged as Starfire tried to poke some life into Kira. "Ma, I don't think that'll help," she said with a raised eyebrow as Starfire continued to prod her finger into the side of Kira's head.

With a sigh, Shia scrambled up and forcefully shoved his mother's chair away so she skidded back. Still in motion, Starfire threw him a dirty scowl.

Oblivious to his mother's dark stare, Shia leaned down to his sister. "Why so down, Angel? Did that idiot Dick try to ask you out again?"

Sam rolled her golden eyes. "Mom's already asked if he had tried to attempt to "score"," she said, using her fingers to form quotations with the spoken word, "with her."

Shia mouthed the word and turned to pin his mother with an arched brow. "Scored?" He then asked aloud, shaking his head at his mother's unique sense of wording. "Never mind. So it wasn't the asshole, huh? Then what is it? Grades? No, that's not it. You wouldn't get this upset over that. Uh, did Chase do something stupid? Nope, not that either. Chase does nothing wrong in your eyes. Then it's gotta be—"

"Here. I took your damn notes like an idiot. Stupid Mayson using that against me like a coward. Hell, even _I_ don't take notes, yet there I was, listening to his damn preening voice and writing what he was. He was giggling the whole damn time, too, stupid idget teacher. You _seriously_ owe me, Kiranne. I think my hand is numb from all the damn notes. I swear that man added useless crap that won't even be on the test just 'cause I'm such a freaking push over when it comes to you…"

It all happened quickly then. Dante could only stand dumbfounded in the doorway, notebook held loosely in his hand as Kira yelped and jerked up, the crown of her head snapping against Shia's chin.

The force sent him stumbling back with a shocked curse. He tripped over his twin's foot, teetered precariously on his feet before crashing into said girl, knocking her out of the chair and sending them both careening to the floor in a mass of twisted limbs and shouted curses.

Starfire hooted with glee, head falling back in utmost amusement and nearly took a dive herself when she bent over with loud, rambunctious giggles. Kira watch the pandemonium with wide eyes, mouth parted in shock as Sam tried to shove her moaning brother off her and having little success, for she was stuck on her stomach, arms pinned beneath her. Shia was sprawled in all different directions and was too busy rubbing his tender jaw to notice the fiery yells under him.

"Damn you, you heavy oaf, get your boney ass off me!"

Shia brushed the insults off with a grunt. "Ouch," he muttered, pressing two careful fingers against the throbbing skin. "You have one hell of a hard skull, kiddo," he added as Sam tried to buck him off fruitlessly. Sam huffed in annoyance, blowing moodily at a long strand of fire red hair that dipped into her eyes.

Dante noted that Starfire was still laughing her ass off when Adara and Dahlia walked into the fray. Grey followed closely behind, blinking rapidly at the scene, slim arms folded daintily over her small chest. "Aunt Star, you know the entire second floor can hear you, right? Most people haven't moved off to lunch yet. They're starting to group around to see what the entire ruckus is. "

The knowledge did nothing but cause her to slip into more peels of amusement. Lips twisting, Grey shook her head and turned to peer up at her slack jawed brother. "What happened? And where is—"

"Shia Grayson, get your boney butt off me!" The loud cry was then followed by long bouts of Tameranian curses and grunts of pain.

Kira snapped out of her daze to jump to her feet, knocking over the chair she was sitting in with a clatter. She flinched when it knocked over her mother's bag, sending papers scattering across the tiled floor. Stray curls tumbled into her eyes as she tried to move to her bickering siblings to somehow right the wrong she had undoubtedly caused.

Sam kicked out again in her anger, booted foot connecting with the computer table. The frail wood cracked under the inhuman strength of her muscles and gave out with a hollow groan. Wide-eyed, Kira jumped to catch the aged computer, arm slamming against the hard-drive beneath it and her breath hissing between her teeth.

With a cried, "Ooh!" Grey jumped forward to help some of the destruction, leaping agilely over the main desk to try and help Kira with the chaos. She stopped, however, when Shia struggled to get up, muscles gliding against the simple white T-shirt he wore. He was halfway to his feet when Sam bucked again, literally throwing him off of her.

Eyes wide, Shia slammed into Grey, knocking them both down again with a whoosh of air. From the doorway, Ada had to turn away to keep her laughter in check. Dahlia merely sighed, eyes narrowing slightly when the Twain twins walked around the corner, eyebrows raised high. To strangers, it was almost impossible to tell them apart, even at close range. The hair cut as also almost exactly the same, save for Cameron's spikes were natural. Chase tended to have unruly curls that had to be soaked in hair gel to rein in some amount of control. Despite the odds, Dahlia knew them apart immediately.

Chase tended to have a smile on his face no matter what time of day. If not a smile, then his eyes were crinkled slightly at the corners. Cameron was prone to rock back on his heels and shove his hands into his pockets as he bit the inside of his lower lip, as he was doing now. It was Chase, the hunky god he was, who asked, "What the hell is going on? I was in Eco when I heard all this going on. Sounded like someone used a wrecking ball up here. Surprised Principal Macintyre isn't huffing his way here." The principal was a tender subject to the superheroes, for he had an acute dislike for them. He refused to leave them alone, and set impossible rules against them. When and if in a fight, they were forbidden to retaliate, or even defend themselves, for their "powers" were inhumane and dangerous in any situation. He refused to let them play sports—which was understandable. The only reason he still allowed them in the school was the school board, who happened to have an uncanny liking to their main sponsor, Hannah Matthews.

Dahlia idly watched Cam pull her sister to his chest without seeming to notice, lithe arms folded over her shoulders as she gently bit his large palm to help cease the giggles spilling from her rosy mouth. "Sam and Shia, and a helpful dose of Kira. Now, we've added a pinch of Grey and a hell of a situation," Dahlia said monotonously.

Lips turned down in a frown but eyes glowing with mirth, Dahlia plowed her fingers roughly through her hair, shoving the thick mass into a messy ponytail at the nape of her long neck with a band from her wrist.

"Guess it's up to me now," she muttered. Chase almost had to lean in to hear her over the sharp growl from Grey as Shia's hand fell somewhere it wasn't supposed to, followed quickly by a male cry of pain when Shia stupidly made a snappy comment about her being so damn tiny and ended up with a knee to the ribs.

Chase couldn't help but smile when his eyes landed on the flustered Kira, who was staring down at the pair, computer monitor still held in her strong hands. She was so damn cute, cheeks flushing pink and white teeth sinking into her full lower lip. Even Dante seemed to be drawn to the picture she presented, for his lavender eyes shifted down her form in wonder, almost as if he were finally seeing the beauty she really was.

Dahlia shoved past him, forcing his gaze away from Kira. It was immediately riveted to the dark Goth, who, if he wasn't mistaken, just threw him a very malicious glare for looking in Kira's direction. He wanted desperately to think she was jealous, but he knew that she was more annoyed at his sudden attraction (no matter how brotherly it was) to her innocent Kira than anything.

Obviously angry, Dahlia reached down to jerk Sam to her feet. Had she not been so graceful—walking or fighting or breathing—Sam might have tumbled at the strength behind it. But as was expected for such a talented girl, Sam merely straightened, heels digging into the ground to prevent herself from falling.

"Damn Shia," she muttered, arching her back to pop out the kinks. "For someone who works out so much, he sure does have a boney butt."

"Leave my butt alone, please," he grunted, hands on either side of Grey's head to keep from crushing her delicate body. His ribs throbbing painfully as he quickly rethought that statement. _Delicate my ass_, he thought with a scowl, noting the way her lips twisted in a cocky grin. He knew full and well she had just peeked into his brain and couldn't help but add, _for such a tiny, frail, weak little thing, she sure does have a helluva kick. _

He didn't know whether to laugh or scream when she reached between them to pinch the skin of his stomach. "Watch it, Pretty Boy. If you ever designate small, frail, tiny, _midget_, weak, short, petite, or anything that has to do with my height—which, might I add, is perfectly normal—in the same sentence, thought, or formations of words, I will make sure I cut off those long legs of yours—maybe something else too that you seem so damn proud of—so watch it."

Shia flinched at the implicated threat as he eased off of her. "All right, all right, _Midget_. No need to get all snippety about it." He deftly avoided the well placed elbow that aimed for his hip and patted her violet head. It did not even reach his chest. "Yes, you're right. Four feet is normal."

She gave a small cry of anger. "I'll have you know, you stupid little tan giant, that I am five feet tall!" She jerked her head up to glare directly into his eyes. Shia bit back the urge to slouch to make it easier for her.

"Four feet, eleven inches, Grey," Dante injected with a twitch of his lips. His long, pale fingers danced across the rings of Kira's notebook.

"Oh, bit me," she grumbled. Her mouth slipped into a pout. "Well, if I'm…_small_," she forced out, the word sounding more like a hiss, "then you're a damn giant. There is no one in this school as tall as your six foot seven frame. Gah, picking on me when _you're_ the one we should be snickering at." She folded her arms over her chest, moodily throwing her waist length violet hair over her shoulder. "Freak," she added sulkily when her friends and brother snickered.

Shia couldn't help it. With a chuckle, he leaned down to kiss her pouting mouth, ignoring both the shocked gasp from her and the roar of blood that seared through his veins.

He pulled back, a grin shaping his mouth. Something lurked deep within his green eyes, however, and Grey couldn't stop the shiver that trailed hot fingers down her spine.

"Well, now that all is somewhat normal, we should go off to lunch," Starfire said from the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed from her laughter, eyes still dancing with mirth. Her arm was thrown comfortably over Chase's waist. "Grey, if you don't hurry, you will have to wait in line—"

Ignoring the heat that pooled deeply within her, Grey darted past the group she had known all her life and took of down the halls like a cheetah scouting prey. Shia sighed with a shake of his head, attention riveted to his still brooding sister.

"Sorry about my boney butt, Sammy." He draped a casual arm over her shoulders, tugging her to the door with a grin. "Guess I need to do some booty warm-ups in the morning to add some muscles to those beautiful suckers."

"Booty warm-ups? Shia, you're such an idiot," she mumbled, hiding the chuckle behind a well-aimed glare.

As they walked out the door, Shia turned his head to wink at Kira, who stared down at the computer as if she did not understand how it came to rest in her hands. "By the way, Angel, that head of yours could be used as a mighty handy weapon."

Kira's gaze snapped up as Shia strutted out of the room, fingers caressing the red skin across his square jaw. An apology was heavy on her tongue, but she couldn't seem to speak it aloud. Heart sinking at the knowledge that she had hurt her brother—and wrecked her mother's class room—Kira turned to the chaos, cringing at the poor computer desk. How was it that she always managed to wreak so much havoc wherever she went?

"Here." Kira jerked when her notebook slapped against the desk, unusual eyes darting up to see Dante lean a slim hip against the desk, eyes scanning over the scattered papers. "So this is what you do when you skip class," he said with an approving nod. "Don't think I could pull off the trouble that you do."

He watched the emotions skitter across her achingly sweet face as she gently sat the monitor down, teeth immediately skimming across the fullness of her bottom lip. He found himself staring at the softness, breath catching slightly when his mind swarmed with images of taking her mouth with his own…

Her signature blush painted her cheeks as her unique eyes landed on the thick notebook. He nearly jumped when she snatched out a hand and scooped it up to cradle against her chest like a child. He blinked when the blush deepened to a deep rose.

"I…t-thank you…for writing down my notes," she said softly, eyelashes fluttering over her gold and green eyes. "I-I'm sorry to have t-troubled you with it."

Dante gave a lazy shrug, mentally chastising himself for thinking about anything romantically inclined about Kiranne. "Eh, don't worry about it. Someone had to do it, I guess, though that damned jackass made sure to go out of his way to write useless crap to make me write more."

A soft smile tugged at her lips. "T-thank you," she repeated, voice soft and sweet. Something tugged at his heart, causing the lazy boy to scowl. He did_ not_ like the way this shy, innocent girl made him feel. She was too damn pure for her own good. It would be her downfall, he knew, if anyone could force themselves not to sink into the light that we Kiranne Grayson.

He closed his eyes and stretched, deftly forcing himself to stop staring at her and focus on the important thing at hand: his future naptime.

"Guess we better head down to lunch. My tree is calling out to me. She misses me." He sighed contentedly when the image of his favored sleeping spot came into mind. He would gladly lie there anytime of day, rain or shine. And he only had a limited chance to do so. Lunch only lasted for fifty minutes.

"I have to clean," she murmured. Dante cracked open one eye as she knelt down to gather the papers scattered around the desk. Her long braid draped over her shoulder, caressing the soft skin of her forearm as she reached for the sheets.

Dante felt a frown tugging at his mouth when his legs refused to listen to his mind and just leave. He should have been downstairs, basking in the sunlight as he stretched contentedly under the weeping willow, but he found himself kneeling beside her, hands reaching for the papers.

For the second time that day, his hands brushed over hers. He cursed loudly, jerking it back as if scorched and staring at the skin as if waiting for it to burst into flames.

"Damn," he muttered, catching her small flinch from the corner of his eyes. Unsure if it was his touch or his reaction that had her cringing, Dante scowled. This whole touch and shock thing was about to seriously piss him off. He did not like dealing with the unknown, which was exactly what this was. This couldn't happen every damn time his hand skimmed over hers.

Never one to let the unknown rest, Dante cursed and grabbed her hand in his. The heat was there again, racing down his arms and stabbing into his heart, which gave a content leap of arousal.

Kiranne's eyes went wide, breath catching in her throat as the tingling died down, leaving only a wild, thumping heart that coursed heated blood through her veins. "D-Dante—"

"Well, hell." Dante scowled down at his hand, so much paler than her own. "I was hoping it was something else."

"Something else?" Her voice was soft with confusion. "W-what was it? Do I keep shocking you? I'm sorry." Her eyes lowered, long lashes brushing against her silken cheeks. Long tapered fingers curled slightly against his palm. The simple movement sent the heat coursing again, but his heart gave an unusual clench that had nothing to do with desire.

He sighed, his napping fantasy gone along with all thoughts of keeping his thought of Kiranne Grayson PG. "No, Kiranne, you didn't shock me. And please," he added gruffly, "don't apologize for every little insignificant thing. You did nothing wrong." _Other than being so damn cute when you blush and making my damn traitorous body hot for you. Why is it that I can't touch you without felling like a horny teenage boy? Gah, I haven't felt like this since I was fifteen. Hell, even then I was calm and collected and I'm not even thinking about having sex with…ah, shit. _

"Oh…well, then what is it?" Her eyes lifted to his and he found himself watching as her left eye tinted a bright gold, while her right eye seemed to turn sea-green. It amazed him at how easily her eyes shifted colors with her moods.

Dante sighed and shook his shaggy head, wings of raven's hair catching sexily on his long eyelashes. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing you'll have to worry about for a little while yet."

An eyebrow shot up at this, head tilted slightly as she watched him slip to his feet. Finding the look endearing, Dante rolled his eyes, holding out a large clawed hand with a smirk twisting his lips. "Come on. Let's get lunch."

Kiranne stared up at his hand, marveling at how long the slim fingers were before his meaning slipped into her mind and a blush bloomed beneath her tan skin. She ducked her head shyly as Dante laughed.

"Come on, Kiranne. You—maybe me, if I feel up to it—can clean this up during our free period. 'Sides, I'm starving." As if to prove his point, his stomach gave a rumbling groan. Surprised, his reached down to pat his flat stomach lovingly. "Awh, don't worry. I'll fill you up in a minute, my sweet."

Kira tried to hold back the giggle by biting her lip, but a few managed to wiggle forth. Dante blinked, trying desperately to wrestle the romantic notions out of his head. His face was devoid of his internal conflict as he motioned to the door with his head, long hair falling over his eyes. He tossed it away with an impatient jerk of his head. "Come on. I won't wait much longer."

This time, when he held out his hand, Kiranne took it gratefully.

* * *

The cafeteria was alive with laughter and movement when Kira and Dante walked out of the doorway. Students clogged the lunch lines as Dante weaved through them, hands shoved in his pockets.

Kira followed behind him, head lowered and fingers lacing together, somehow managing to move through the crowed without plowing anyone over. She glanced up, however, when a call from Grey caught her attention.

"Hey, Kira! Over here!"

Unique eyes scanned over the crowed, but she found now sign of the petite witch. Eyebrows drawing together, Kira looked again, eyes roaming over every person she could. Dante walked beside her, long black hair covering his eyes again.

"I hear but I don't see," he murmured. He caught an annoyed, "Oh, for the love of God," before someone hefted Grey onto their shoulders. She waved wildly from the left side of the cafeteria, the light streaming from the tall windows casting her hair lavender.

"Right here! Come on, I look and sound like an idiot over here!" Grey glanced up at the ceiling, which her head was quite close to. "Sides," she added, but only loud enough for her to hear, "This idget will probably hop up just so I smack my head against the wall."

She yelped when said boy did, petite body huddling down as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Watch it, Shiamar. My threat still stands."

Shia frowned as he reached behind him, large hands swallowing her waist as he lifted her high and dropped her to her feet. The top of her head barely skinned his bottom ribs. She whirled, pointing a black claw at his ribs. "Do _not_ do that again."

He held up his hands in defense, mouth shifting into an amused smile. "All right, all right. Promise never to try and smack your head against the ceiling when it seems so tempting."

Grey huffed, gloss-slicked mouth slipping into a pout. "You're so mean."

He chuckled, pressing his hand to her back and herding her toward her mountain of cafeteria food. "Come on, Midget, your food calls." She turned with a glare and set her teeth into the tender skin covering his ribs. He yelped and jerked back as the sting raced down his torso. "Ouch! What the…what is it with you woman and biting?"

Grey sat down with a pleased grin, idly picking up a fry and slipping it between her lips. "Told you not to call me that, jackass."

Dante and Kiranne finally made it to their table. Dante slouched into a chair beside his older sister, while Kira slinked toward Sam, who was already patting the empty seat between her and Adara. A platter of food already awaited her, steam rising from the wrapped burger and grease-drenched fries. As Shia drilled furious green eyes into the chortling witch, Kira daintily dug into her food.

Dahlia shook her head and leaned back in her chair to lift his shirt, much as she had done to Chase earlier that morning. "Wow. You do realize, Grey, that you just gave Shia a hickey, right?"

"What?" Wide-eyed, Grey whirled around, only to get an eyeful of sleek muscle beneath golden skin. She blinked, eyes roving over his torso and mouth going dry. Chase rolled his eyes, gently planting his elbow into Dahlia's ribs. "Sneak. All Shia has is a bite mark. You just wanted to see Grey make a fool of herself by drooling, much as she's doing now."

Dahlia caught that half-eaten fry as it headed for her forehead, popping it into her mouth as Grey sputtered in anger. "That—you—I was not—you sneaky bitch."

Eyes alight with humor, Dahlia dropped her brother's shirt, winking at him as a flush spread over his high cheekbones. "Ah, I know. Figured I might as well leave my mark today."

Growling, Grey whipped away from him, arms folded over her chest and legs crossed angrily. "Stupid little—and I was _not_ drooling. Who in their right mind would find that attractive? Gah, he's almost one of those sickening bodybuilders."

Sam shook her head in amusement while Ada snuggled more comfortably in Cam's lap, hand pressed her to mouth to hide the grin. Kira merely watched the scene, heart sinking at the thought of another disaster. _At least this one is not my fault_, she mused with a slight shrug, unaware of the small tilt of Dante's mouth.

Someone shoved into Shia, and a blonde head popped up beside him. Talon Davis stared at the back of Grey's head, plastic maroon lunch try balanced against her hip. "Dude, are you blind? Shia's freaking _hot_. How can you say he looks like one of those steroid junkies?" Boldly, thirteen-year-old Talon jerked up his shirt again. "This," she said, eyes moving over his abdomen, "is what fuels teenage hormones. He's just gorgeous. If I weren't older…"

Shia swatted the girl away, cheeks flaming as he wrestled his shirt back down. "Damnit, Talon, have you no shame?"

She grinned unabashedly. "Nope."

Chase chuckled. "So, Tally, I hear you got caught with Caden."

"Sure did." Talon skipped over to him, plopping down beside him with no thought about it being the upperclassman table of superheroes and companions. "He had a freaking heart attack. Don't see why, though. I mean its human nature to want to kiss, right? Besides, it's not like we were about to have sex or anything. Getting caught was nothing. Your mom was awesome, by the way. Scared the hell out of him, made it look like I was getting booted physically out the door, then took me into the living room and laughed her ass off. Guess she didn't care if we were well on our way to going the distance."

Still sore about being tricked by Dahlia, Grey moodily unwrapped her first cheeseburger and slapped on the necessities. "You better not be thinking about sex, Talon Davis. You're thirteen years old, and I swear on all that is holy, if I find that you and the next Twain whore are at it, I'll make your life a living hell. You won't want me on your tail. Just ask Shia."

Behind her, Shia shook his head quickly. "Worst punishment ever."

Talon shrugged. "When I'm ready, I'm ready. Anyhow, I have to go eat with Caden before he drills angry wholes into my head. He's a rather moody boy," she said with a sigh, grabbing up her plate and nearly trotting over to her new interest.

When Talon was out of ear shot, Chase turned fiery black eyes to Grey. "Next Twain whore? What's with that?"

Dahlia slid her fork into the creamy cake served in a Styrofoam bowl, lifted it to her lips. "She means that every one of you Twain boys are whores. Cameron, well, he's an exception, for the only girl he has ever been with is the one he is with now. You, on the other hand, are a playboy."

Chase watched her slid the desert into her mouth, ignored the flames of desire nipping at his stomach, and scowled. "Excuse me, but I'm not the only one here who's gotten around."

"I know," Dahlia said, pierced tongue flicking out to swipe at the icing on her bottom lip. "But you're the worst one."

Dante snickered, reaching over to pluck a fry from Kiranne's plate. Kira didn't even blink. She did raise her eyes, however, when Grey rounded on him. "You're horrible too, you damn slut."

Dante raised a winged eyebrow. "Slut? I am not a slut, oh Queen of the Shrews. I'm a normal teenage boy sating my lust and I just happen to have a few takers. Besides, sluts beg for it. I don't. I also have a girlfriend."

As Kira ducked her head to hide the hopelessness, Grey reached over to slap the back of his head. He flinched away from her, nearly pouting as he stood up and walked to the other side of the table, easily sliding Kira over so he could squeeze in another chair. His thigh skimmed across hers as he settled in comfortably and Dante found it almost impossible to ignore the thrum of arousal beating through his system.

"She's a freaking toy to you."

Dante smiled. "Ah, but a very good toy. A personal favorite." He set the chair on hind legs when Grey tried to reach across the table to hit him once again, one long arm thrown over Kiranne seat. The men chuckled, save for Cameron, who was smart enough to keep his amusement in with his love current residing on his lap. She was close enough to do serious damage if she let her elbow fly.

But Dante regretted the words the minute they slipped out, for pain flitted across her face before fury bled into the lavender depths. "Dante Adrian Logan, you are so going to get what's coming to you for that comment. I might not like Miranda Kendall that much, but that was a derogatory remark to all women. It is jerks like you that make me hate men so goddamned much."

Appetite vanishing, Grey stood up, legs of the chair scrapping against the tiled floor. "See you outside," she muttered, shoving past a shocked Shia and dumping her food into the trash bin.

Eyes wide, Dante scrambled out his chair, nearly mowing over a group of freshman girls in his pursuit to beg forgiveness from his sister. He held the girls shoulders to steady her, eyes scanning the crowd. He saw the violet waves of her long hair heading for the courtyard door and cursed. The freshman gawked up at him, blush spreading across her cheeks at his touch. Dante ignored the quite giggles from her friends as he moved away, nearly running to the double doors.

Grey was in fast pursuit to the large fountain in the middle of the courtyard, where they spent every school day during lunch. It was their reserved spot, had been since Grey and the set of twins had been freshman four years ago.

Grey stormed up to the marble fountain, red clouding her vision and furious tears burning her throat. She shouldn't be so mad, she knew, but that comment of her brother's brought back all the hate and pain so many years before, when her heart had been shattered by a callous remark so much like Dante had said. The scabs over her wounded pride peeled back, and now she felt the utter despair bleed through her again, submersing her in the past she so desperately tried to bury. She had done well the past two years, but now she felt all of her hard work wash away with her façade.

She plopped down on the marble, head dropping into her hands. She knew Dante was fast approaching, knew he was drowning in guilt, and felt like an ass. She didn't mean to lash out like that at him, but it was so hard to be so damn happy all the time, especially when someone said something so cruel about women being used so uselessly.

Dante hesitated near her, hands hovering over her shoulder. Grey had lived a hard past, one that no one but his parent and he knew. He had no right to say something so sick, no matter if it was supposed to be a stupid joke. Dante sighed softly and sat beside her.

"I'm sorry," he said, hand lifting up to tuck his shaggy hair behind his ears, a mannerism he had developed at a young age when he was truly upset at something he had said or done. He did it rarely, and it was usually only caused by Kiranne, but Grey had to smile nonetheless at how sweet her baby brother really was, despite his sarcasm and pigheadedness.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," she mumbled, scooting closer to him to lay her head against his shoulder. "I snapped for no reason. I knew you were joking, but it just brought it all back and I could keep from getting angry."

He leaned his cheek against the top of her head, the scent of her favorite fruity shampoo calming his senses. "You know I don't think before I speak. Troublesome problem, but I can't help it."

She chuckled. "You're as bad as dad is with his stupid jokes. Never thinks 'em through when he says them."

Dante turned his head to press his lips against her hair. "Promise I won't say anything like that again, 'kay?"

She shook her head, brushing away the angry tears that stubbornly fell. "Thanks. If you do say them, make sure Kiranne doesn't hear. She might think that is all women are meant for: being toys for men."

Heart sinking in guilt, Dante threw his arms around her small shoulders. "Right. I'll have to remember that."

Grey glanced up when Shia's scent wafted toward her. Hastily, she scrubbed her eyes and sat up, leaning down to poke through her monstrous purse. Dante glanced down at it with a frown.

"Why do you carry a freaking suitcase with you? I don't know how the woman mind works, but I'm pretty sure that you don't need that much crap in a purse."

She glanced back at him with a frown, eyes rimmed with red. "I need every little thing in my bag, Dante. Without this bag here, I am not whole. I am a walking shell of a girl with no thought beyond that of missing my bag." To prove her point, Grey hefted the black bag into his lap.

He grunted at the weight. "Jeez, Grey, this thing weighs more than you."

Shia was now near them, eyes clouded with pained curiosity, but mouth still smiling. She knew it was a sign that he was dying to ask, but was unwilling to step past the boundary until it was brought up. It was one thing she admired about the strong teen. He didn't pry into anyone's business. He could be a pillar of support, yet never asked to know why. Despite the fact that she was constantly fighting with him, Grey found that it was the one thing about him she really needed from time to time.

Outwardly, she didn't acknowledge the tall Tameranian, but her body was completely aware of his presence. Trying to ignore the steady pulse of desire, Grey reached into the bag and pulled out a random object. "See, I happen to need this."

Eyebrow arching, Dante asked, "You need a corkscrew?"

Grey blinked. "Yes. It holds many memories."

"You don't drink."

She smiled, pain crawling back into the dark abyss from whence it came, but ready to leap back at the smallest memory. "I found it somewhere…not sure where, but I found it and its mine. So shut up." Discontented with her argument, Grey pulled out the biggest makeup case he had ever set eyes on.

"See? I need this. Oh, and this," she chirped as she pulled out about ten pens, all in varying shades of neon colors. "And I need this, and this too, can't live without that. Need this, too, and you see this? Yes, have to have with me at all times. And—"

Dante rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, you need your bottomless purse that'll end up breaking your shoulder in the long run."

Grey winked. "See? I always win." Pulling the heavy bagged from her bothers lap, Grey pulled out the makeup bag in hopes of repairing the damage of her anger. She could still feel the heat of her fury burning her cheeks as she slapped on more base.

Shia sat down beside her, thighs bumping casually against hers. The feeling that swelled in her chest was far from informal on her part, and Grey felt her heart pick up speed. It was still unruly when Shia peeked over her shoulder to prod at the makeup filled to the brim inside the black and white stripped bag.

"What is all that?" He asked curiously, picking up an eyelash curler and tilting it in his hands as if it were a foreign device. Finding him utterly adorable, Grey plucked it from his hands. "It's an eyelash curler, nimrod. It, you know, curls eyelashes."

He ignored the obvious ploy, instead leafing through it to find another article. He picked up lip gloss, unscrewed it. Sniffed. "Fruity," he said with a nodded, His eyes lifted to her mouth. "Was this what I tasted earlier?"

He had not meant for his innocent comment to make her blush, but it was exactly what she was doing. Feisty, hardheaded, I-can-take-care-of-my-self-even-if-I-am-a-bit-shorter-than-normal-human's was blushing because he mentioned their earlier kiss. He found himself aching to kiss her again, even though he had long ago admitted that the little dragon was a pain in the ass and swore that she would forever annoy him. It was strange to say the least, for he had never felt the urge to kiss her…well, unless you excluded the first time she's planted one on him, or the constant day dreams, or the sex dream he had last night—heck, or every single night since he was thirteen…

Well, hell, he thought with a frown, idly lifting to gloss to smell again. So much for that…

Grey snapped out of her daze with a shake of her head, long hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her chest. He found himself watching the decent with a little bit too much interest

"Actually, it is. Did you enjoy it? Personally, I really like it. Hey, that reminds me, I need to go buy some more."

Shiamar smiled at her antics. Leave it up to Grey to plow on casually, as if nothing embarrassing had happened. The urge to lean in again forced him to his feet, gloss in hand. "You know, Grey, you don't need makeup."

She glanced up at him, a mere flutter of lashes, and plucked the lipstick from his hand to toss it back in the pile. "Course I do. I look like death warmed over without it."

He glanced over his shoulder at the mingling students, now pouring out the cafeteria like water. "I think you look beautiful either way."

Grey's eyes snapped up to his face, heart stuttering in her chest as the voice in her head squealed and proceeded to giggle insanely. "What did you say?"

Shia turned back, sexy grin spreading over his mouth. "Said you look fine either way. Don't think I stuttered. Is your hearing range as short as your body?"

That snapped her out of her revere fast, causing her brother to sigh as the normal bickering irrupted. "So troublesome," he mumbled, mood lightning when he spotted his tree, void of all other humans, save for the few group of sophomore girls who lingered around the perimeter in hopes of getting close to him. He shrugged, uncaring. So long as they didn't bother him…

He walked to his tree, nearly giddy at the prospect at napping when Kiranne walked out, only to be targeted by none other than the Dick himself. Happiness vanishing, Dante scowled, clawed hand fisting. His eyes met the brown depths or Dick's, locking and holding for what seemed like hours. There was humor in Richard's, and a fair tinge of challenge. Never one to be screwed with intentionally, Dante waited until Dick was closing on her.

Lazily, he called out to her. "Kiranne, get over here."

Body turned completely away from Dick's—pleasure swamped Dante as Richard glowered at him—Kiranne's diverse colored eyes lifted to his, blush blooming. Hands lifted as if to strangle him, Richard could only watched as Kira dragged herself toward the damn shape-shifter, body language all but screaming her attraction to the boy despite the self-consciousness weighing her down.

Dante waved happily at him as Kira moved to stand in front of him, at least six feet away from him. Finding the movement oddly cute, Dante reached out to grab her arm and drug her body towards him. In her shock, she all but fell into him, hands fisting against his shirt and head tipping back to stare at him wide-eyed.

"Come on. I need you to be my guard while I sleep to make sure no one tries to rape this beautiful, sexy body of mine."

He knew she wanted to roll her eyes, but was too busy concentrating on the out of control blush at such close contact. He pushed her up gently, brushed off her shoulders. His fingers accidentally skimmed across her collarbone and he had the pleasure of feeling the heat spread over her skin and dip into the collar of her white Falcon Dojo T-shirt.

"We have, what, thirty minutes? Good, all I need to rest. I can sleep the rest off in class. Now, remember, make sure no one tries to lay hands on this hunky piece of meat." He managed to drag a smile out of her despite the embarrassment.

Dante settled beneath the tree, long, lithe body stretching out. He sighed in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed as the April breeze combed loving fingers through his long locks. "This is the life," he murmured, lazily reaching up, eyes still closed, to grab Kira's hand and tug her down. She ended up half-sprawled against him, chest pressed against his hips.

Dante managed to keep from ripping her up to his mouth, instead concentrating on the feel of her raging heartbeat against his skin. "I know you want me Kiranne, but I think we best wait till we're alone."

He didn't miss the sigh or the sudden spike of her scent. Misery smoldered together with despair. He knew, without prying into her mind, what she was thinking. Somehow, with his joke, he managed to make her feel unwanted again. Dante sighed softly as she scrambled up. If only she knew…

Kiranne sat beside him, a good foot away from him, head tilted away from him. So wrapped up in her thoughts was she that she missed to blur of pink and white that leaped on Dante, legs on either side of his hips.

By the time she managed to turn her head, said blur was already kissing one very shocked shape-shifter. He relaxed slightly when he notice who was running her skilled tongue over the seam of his mouth.

"Miranda."

Kiranne frowned at the girl, unable to turn away when she ground her hips provocatively against his. Dante jerked, eyes clouding. "Damnit, Randi, not here. You're killing me." His eyes narrowed slightly, eyes dropping down to her short skirt. "Oh God, you're not even wearing underwear, are you?"

Miranda winked. "You'll find out later." She turned her body to study Kiranne with blatant dislike. She waved her hands dismissively. "Shoo, now. Let the adults play."

Something shifted in his chest as Kiranne scuffled to do as she was bid. "Miranda," he growled. "She's fine." Ignoring the pout his girlfriend was currently harboring, Dante reached to grab Kiranne again.

"Don't leave because she told you to. Stay if you want." He threw a frown at Miranda, who looked away and proceeded to fix her short bob of brunette hair.

He kept his eyes locked with Kiranne's, heart sinking when she turned away with pain muting her bright eyes. She got up without a word, walking slowly toward her siblings. Chase, who had watched the whole thing with anger bubbling in his chest, sidled to Kira's side, immediately trying to coax her into a laugh. He made sure to turn toward Dante when they reached the fountain, eyes screaming profanities.

Dante's eyebrows drew together as he nodded in understanding. Oblivious to her boyfriend's plight, Miranda leaned down to kiss him heavily, tongue skimming over the roof of his mouth.

Dante tried to respond. He tried to force his body to take pleasure in the attention he received constantly, but for reasons unknown, Dante could not bring himself to feel anything but the guilt eating away at his soul.

* * *

He wasn't interested in what Rebecca had planned. Personally, he found the whole idea of raping and murdering superhero girls degrading, and all together sick. What was the world coming to if raping all that was supposedly good in this world?

He wasn't black or white when it came to classifying his political interest. He was gray, neither good nor evil. He did what he pleased with no thought towards his counterparts. Both sides had tried to wrangle him in, but he was content with bouncing around, poking into their business and laughing behind their backs.

But this…this was something he had never dealt with. This evil was more sinister than any hostile takeover. This was destroying innocent girls because they happened to be the blood relatives of past victims. It was sick, and he found himself unconsciously leaning toward the white side of the world.

He had gone to the meeting out of simple curiosity. It was his nature, as was studying the army of people. He thought it would be some nonsense about another plan of world domination. He went because he knew it would amuse him. But walking into the warehouse, hearing the plot and seeing the women had screwed with his head, made him stop and think about what was really going on.

The Titan girls had done nothing wrong to the one called Rebecca. It was her sick plan to take away the present and future of her past victims to regain her own sick life. He wanted to turn his back to them, to try and force himself to forget the plot, the sick torture planned for those beautiful virgin girls, but his heart refused to let him. He had to do something, even if it was to help the good side of life.

He lingered in the large drawing room at Rebecca's manor, presence blending with the rest of the idiots pulled into the plan. He recognized a few of them. Others were strangers, mere humans with nothing but guns as their weapons. He knew that they were the ones to truly fear.

The one who he remembered having such a strong want for Dahlia was close to him, arms folded over his chest. His body language was loose, almost lazy, but his eyes were sharp and oddly expressive, despite the fact that he couldn't find a single emotion in them.

"Lotta people here," he said casually, eyes scanning the crowed. Rebecca was no where to be seen, but her husband was there, sitting comfortably at the couch while sipping a cup of tea. His eyebrow rose. Didn't seem like the husband was exactly right in the mind, either…

"Yes."

He was mildly surprised that he received an answer. "So many people fighting for a chance to shine. Wonder how many of them will off each other to get it done."

"Hmm. Interesting point. I care not."

He brushed off the man without a second thought when Rebecca walked in, cheeks flushed and a stoic bear of a man trailing in behind her. She looked like she had just come from a tumble between the sheet, and if her husband had any indication, he did not show it.

The room quitted, and he was almost impressed with Rebecca and her presences. She could grab hold of a good amount of people attention, which happened to make a good speaker, he mused, watching neutrally as she stepped onto a chair with the help of the pale bear-man.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I was away on business." A secretive smile flitted over her lips as she smoothed down her skirt. "Now, on to more pressing matters. It has been decided that we are to begin immediately on our project. I do not want to waste anymore time. Eighteen years has been enough. Now, I need you to group off, if you don't mind."

She rubbed her shoulders and glanced behind her at the man she had walked in with. "Gizmo here is our technological genius. He is going to be my main man, and all those who happen to be good with computers will be under his supervision. Those who do not meet his requirements will be dealt with, and placed in another group where your talents are needed. Now, those of you who deal with any sort of mechanics, be it computer or car, moved toward this man here."

By the time all the scuffling had died down, seven people were gathered behind them. There were two women, both who seemed as dead as the weapon wielder next to him. The rest were men, all young and composed. It was a rather dismal scene, but he had no more time to study them, for Rebecca shooed them off after Gizmo, who disappeared without a glancing behind him.

Rebecca watched him with a sort of longing before turning back to winked at her husband. Floozy, he thought with a sigh.

"Archers, snipers, and weapon wielders will be studied, and I will be there to personally watch. I will be the one who decided who stays and who goes. All of you who think you are up to par with my expectation, please follow Blade out the door."

The man next to him shifted and walked off; following the same path that Gizmo had taken. The room was nearly empty now.

"As for the rest of you, I take it you have superhuman powers?" They all nodded, and a smile broke over Rebecca's face. "Good. You are to be my main warriors. You, I know, will be able to fight against the Titans bitches fairly. If you will, please, go with my husband. He will lead you to the basement, where he will study your powers."

He frowned slightly. Everyone followed the redhead out the door, leaving only him and Rebecca alone in the room. Well, so much for being discreet. Should have followed the weapons…

She glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry, did you not hear? Are you part of the arsenal?"

He shook his head. Arsenal? All those fighters were nothing more than tools? Actually, that didn't shock him. All of the people here were tools to Rebecca.

"No," he said with a yellow smile. "I'm more talented in a different area. Figured it would be stupid to trot after a group I don't belong in and risk getting killed when I don't met your standards."

She stepped down from the chair with a tilt of her head. "Caught that, did you?"

He nodded, hands slipping in jean pockets. "Don't put it past you."

He was surprised when she laughed, eyes alight. "Ah, I like you. So, you don't play around do you?"

"I find it stupid and unnecessary. There's no need to beat around the bush when you can just as easily get through your mission without faults."

"I see." She walked up to him, leaning her head back to watch him. "What is your specialty?"

He pulled his eyes away from her to study the surroundings. Classy. Rich. Yet there was something off about it, like it was hiding something behind the bright yellow walls. "I'm a…spy, of sorts."

"A spy?" Her eyes lit up again. "Well, I think I can use you, Mr. Spy." She turned away as she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it from her shoulders. She moved toward the tray of tea on the mantel in nothing more than a white slip. "What made you come?"

Heart beat almost unsteady, he shrugged, face masked. "Bored."

Tea in hand, she turned to him, surprise flitting over her features. "Bored? You came here because you had nothing better to do?"

"Ah, you jump too quickly to conclusions. I was bored when I went to the first meeting. I became hooked, I guess, afterwards. Now, I'm enthralled. You're plan is wicked at best. Very evil. Very complex. Very in-depth. There's no room for mistakes. It something I look for in my bosses. You have the field mapped out, all possible outcomes planned. You mind is ingenious."

She smiled, sipped her tea. "Thank you. Do you plan on spying for me?"

He let a smile slip over his features. "You plan on killing me if I say no?"

She laughed again. "I really like your spunk, kid. I want you with me. I want you to find out all the little details about those girls as you can. Can you do that?"

He nodded. "Sure. Got anything background info I can use? To get a good feel for them?"

She grinned behind the flowered china. "What kind of sick bitch do you think I am? Of course I do."

He walked out the mansion, papers tucked beneath his arms. As he strutted down the sidewalk, whistling, he figured his mentor would be highly pleased with the new batch of information.

* * *

Can you believe I actually went to my junior prom Saturday? I was surprised at myself. Had a really good time too. Then, I went horseback riding for the first time_ ever_ Sunday. It was so awesome. Anyway, these are the reasons why I haven't updated sooner. Sorry for the delay, but I was having_ so_ much fun.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I did when writing it. Really like this for some reason…

All right, you people are going to get annoyed with me for doing this again, but it needs to be done.

**_I NEED A BETA_**!!!! 

Yes, I know, I've said this before and have had many people volunteer to do it, but I slack off and just post it without having someone look over it. Those of you before who've said they would do it, I'm sorry, but this time, I'm dead serious. No playing anymore. I will be serious in this.

If you are up for the job, e-mail me instead of leaving it in a review, please, for it is so much easier if I have your e-mail before hand, instead of having to go and dig it up. I feel dirty and sneaky when I do that.

So, if anyone is interest in the job—this would include _all_ stories, not just this one, so be aware—please e-mail me. The only thing I require is fast returns and side-notes on how you liked it and if you didn't. My last beta—who I lost contact with and miss terribly...really need to track her down again...—always left her opinion on what she liked and didn't, and it made it easier to fix. I can always go back and delete the comment of the rough draft, so don't be afraid to write to your heart's content. This is all I ask, so if you want to beta it, I will be forever in your debt.

Oh, yeah, and I'm switching this to M, because of all the innuendoes dealing with sex and whatnot. There won't be any—at least not as of yet—but if it is rated M, I won't have to curb the teenage hormones. It's much easier when you can actually write a teenager without trying to make them all innocent and _not_ hormonal. Seriously, what seventeen-year-old isn't thinking of sex? Heck, even Kira does, though it is still innocent, in a way.

Ooh, speaking of seventeen…I have a total of fourteen days before I turn the big one seven. I so can not wait until the eleventh…


	6. Chapter Five

Kira glanced down at the blue notebook in her hand with a small sigh. Despite the fact that Dante had given it back and it was now in her safekeeping, dread still beat frantically through her veins. Had Dante read it? Was there a slight chance that he had hidden his disgust behind his annoyance toward the teacher?

Frowning, Kiranne gently laid the book open; body leaned forward to protect any wandering eyes that might happen to glance over her shoulder. Thankfully, Chase and Dahlia were bickering over his bruised hip and Dahlia's knack for having a 'shitty attitude'. Shia was still puttering on through Grey's monstrous purse, eyeing every little object he pulled out. He stopped, however, when his wireless phone went off.

He glanced around quickly, the slim oval compact held in his large hand. His eyes landed on his twin sister, who was too busy doodling in her worn notebook. Content with this, Shia leaped off the marble seat, skittering around the cooing Titan couple, and darting behind the willow in which Dante was still with Miranda.

Kiranne turned her head just in time to see Shia wave off their gaze as he flipped open the compact, and a transmitted holograph of one Christian Hallowell appeared. Never one to pry, Kira glanced back down at her notebook, quickly flipping to the page where Dante had dutifully written down the notes.

She found it quickly; heart sinking when she realized it was behind her long, drawn out letter that stated every incident concerning her doubt in herself and her abilities. Fidgeting slightly, Kiranne's eyes drifted over the page. His handwriting was just as lazy as his personality, the words slanted and all in capital letters. As her eyes scanned the scrawl, she realized that he had added amusing little side notes and crude drawings about Mr. Mayson and his teaching abilities.

Kiranne smiled, gently tucking a wild curl behind her ear. It was just like him to add his personality into something as mundane as note taking. She shut the notebook contentedly, gaze searching out Dante. She knew there would never be anything between them, but it was heart warming, to know that despite this, he cared enough about her to take boring notes instead of his daily naptime snooze.

Dante was sitting up now, his back against the hard bark of the willow. Miranda was sprawled in his lap, head nestled against his thigh and body turned completely toward him. There was no telling what she was doing, and Kira forced her mind away from it. There was no sense it brooding over the fact that could never have what Miranda did. _Besides_, she added softly inside her mind as she slipped the notebook in her bag, _I always knew I would never interest him. There's no point in hurting over it…right? _

Kira sighed softly, head tilted back slightly to watch the gray clouds fight to block the sun. It was sure to rain which meant that Cyborg would have no other choice but to fix Samara's truck. He had put it off for months now, and the predicted rain would force him to stop his construction on the new wing behind the tower. She did not get to muse over the predicated rain, however, for there was an insulted huff, followed closely by a yelp. Kira's head snapped back down in time to see Dahlia slam her booted foot into Chase's.

"Gah, what is your problem? I just said you could have aimed a little better," Chase muttered, plopping down beside Kira to nurse his foot. "It's not like I said you were completely incompetent at aiming…"

Dahlia turned; eyes hot and teeth clenched. "Stop while you're ahead, jackass."

Chase smiled innocently, hands held up in surrender. "Planned on it," he said with a weary chuckle. When she glared at him one final time and faced away from him, Chase leaned in toward Kira inconspicuously. "Wonder what crawled up her butt and died," he whispered.

Kira pressed her lips together when Dahlia whirled, hands snatching out to grab him by the collar and haul him to his feet. Chase gave a surprised yelp. "Okay, okay, no more hits at you, I swear. It was all a joke. I would never say anything about your aim, 'cause it is better than anyone I have ever seen and you have proved it when you aim for me. Gah, I seriously did not mean any offence so can you please let me down so my feet can touch the ground?"

Kira deftly moved out of the way when she dropped him back down so he flailed and tumbled into the large, four foot deep fountain, thoroughly soaking Grey, Shia, Samara, Adara, and Cameron. Grey leapt up with a cry, her large purse overturning and contents spilled over the sidewalk. Ada was laughing hysterically at her soaked boyfriend, whose eyes were shocked and mouth agape. Sam, however, was not so forgiving. She jerked up, practically seething, and turned all that fire to Chase.

He blinked up at her from his sprawled position, carefully gelled hair drooping into his eyes. Samara stomped up to him, took in his innocent shock and wide black eyes, and then proceeded to burst into uncontrolled laughter.

Grey shook her head, sending droplets of water tumbling to the ground. "Warning would be nice," she sighed as she leaned over to wring her wet hair out onto Shia's shoes. He was too busy peeling his wet shirt from his back to care.

Dahlia cocked her head to the side. "I didn't know he would create such a big splash," she stated, green eyes scanning over his wet body in muted approval. "I guess I will know better next time."

Kira stepped away when Chase glared, and sent a wave of water at Dahlia. She didn't have time to move, however, and ended up covered. Her eyebrow twitched as she wiped water from her cheek.

"That's cute, Chase. Real cute."

Chase dragged himself over the edge, body completely drenched despite the water being shallow. He sighed and slicked back his hair. "Yeah, I know. I'm always cute."

Dahlia snorted, chin jaunting up haughtily as her eyes trailed down his wet chest, deftly taking in the pronounced physique of his muscles. "You, Chase, are the farthest thing away from being—hey!"

Dahlia's eyes widened when Chase grabbed her in a huge hug, body pressed closely against hers. It took her a minute to realize why he had done it, but by that time, her persona had wavered to the point where she was blushing profusely. For a moment, she looked so much like Kira that Chase had to do a double take.

When the knowledge did set in, however, the shy blush turned into one of fury as the water seeped into her shirt and jeans. Chase watched her eyes flutter closed as her eyebrows twitched in anger.

"Ah, come on now, Dahlia. Don't let a little water scare you. I promise you won't melt." 

Her eyes flashed black when they opened. To save himself from predicted harm, Chase quickly reached out to snatch Kira and jerk her to him, arm slung over her shoulders. She yelped in shock when she came in contact with the soaked fabric, the water bleeding quickly through her white shirt.

With a wicked smile at Dahlia, Chase shook his head, sending tears of water raining down on them. Kira ducked her head as Dahlia fought to push herself away from Chase, laughter bubbling in her throat.

When he stopped, Kira was trying futilely to muffle amused giggles. Dahlia knew that if she tried hard enough, she could push him away, but instead found herself gripping onto his shirt when the sky opened up and rain pelted the school yard. The students loitering around screamed in surprised shock as they stumbled to the covered walkways.

Grey cursed as she knelt on the sidewalk to scoop up her belonging, hair plastered to her forehead. Shia, with a heavenward lift of his eyes, knelt beside her to quicken the work pace.

Ada and Cameron managed to dive beneath the awning, laughing the entire time. Shia and Grey joined them a few moments later, soaked and aspirated, though they seemed to find their own appearance amusing.

Chase chuckled at the irony, head tilted back to study the water falling from the sky. Dahlia merely watched him, almost as if in a trance, and not even the tug of his hand against hers snapped her out of it. When protect by the shelter, Dahlia still couldn't pull herself away from staring at him. It was then she decided that, not only was Chase sexy in all possible ways, but completely, and thoroughly beautiful.

Dante, once so comfortable against the tree, heaved a sigh, wet hair hanging down his face. Miranda had long past scampered for cover, claiming that her mascara was_ not_ water proof. It was sad, really, that he had been with the girl for a year now, yet could not bring himself to really_ like_ her. She was high maintenance, stubborn, shallow, and cruel, and the only thing good about her was her mind. The girl was smart, he would give her credit, and she was talented, outside and in the bedroom. The longer he thought about it, however, made him realize that it was wrong to be with the girl for mere sex. It wasn't fair to either of them, nor to Grey, who knew that he was only with her for that exact reason.

Dante lazily pulled himself up from the tree, shaking his wet hair from his face. Besides, it caused too much troublesome drama. His sister was disappointed in him, Sam thought him petty, and Kiranne…well, it just wasn't right. So, he would finally do it. After school, when he usually went to her house for a quick romp between her sheets, he would tell her it was over. Once he truly thought about it, he realized he was disgusted with himself. That and being single was so much better, for it didn't involve trying to be halfway decent. Seriously, all those times with Miranda and her nagging was taking its toll. It would be nice to be free. Besides, then he could really give Stevens something to worry about.

Pleased with this, Dante smiled cockily, eyes drifting over the scampering teenagers. His eyes landed on Kira, who still had yet to move from the spot near the fountain. Confused, he walked toward her.

"Hey, what's with you? Do you want to do to your classes soaked?"

But her eyes stayed on the distant horizon, arched brows pulling together and mouth slightly pursed. Her hands were loose at her sides, long fingers flexing ever so slightly. He knew it was her fighting stance, but couldn't figure out what was going on. It wasn't until he really stopped and listened that he heard it. A feint boom sounded across the town, followed almost instantly a harsh rumble beneath their feet and a cold gust of wind that slapped his hair painfully across his jaw. There was a yelp behind him as the students felt the unnatural earthquake.

Slowly, Kira was flanked by her sisters, looking as much like kick-ass goddess as anyone could possibly manage. Dante bit back a dreamy sigh. His fantasy was brought to a halt however when a transparent black wolf darted through him. In a flash of energy, Grey appeared before him, her power caressing her form like fire. Dante scowled at the cold numbness sinking into his stomach, gingerly rubbing the skin with his hand. He _hated_ when she did that.

Shia jogged up to him with a sigh. Flashy entrances weren't his forte. "Well, so much for normalcy." He pocked his compact idly, eyes scanning the distant horizon.

Dante grunted. "No kidding. Who do you think it is?"

Shia watched as his warrior girls readied themselves with pride. "Dunno. It's big, I know that. Stupid, obviously, for the direction of the sound is coming from the west, which means it happens to be close to the tower. We'll be getting a transmission from Dad or Uncle B any time now."

Instantly, the rings on each of their middle finger trembled and cackled. Dahlia held out her hand, palm facing the ground, and waited while Beast Boy sent his message through the ring.

Beast Boy's form shifted as the transmission went through. The holographic image of Beast Boy finally settled, and the attractive green shape-shifter sighed. "Well, I hate to tell you this, but you have a job to do. Robin's simmering at the moment, 'cause the wind from that witch damaged his dojo, and Cyborg is currently cursing his head off because that damn woman ruined his new building behind that tower."

He held up his hand with a scowl. "You see this? Yeah, that damn woman had the gall to blast me with glass, of all things." He watched the drop of blood roll down his wrist before he sighed once again.

"That was wind we heard?" Sam asked.

"Yep. I know, seems like it's some giant freak, but it's not. Just some bitchy woman who happens to have control of the wind. She's headed your way, by the by, and it'll take a lot of stealth and power. She had the advantage at the moment. You can't fly, or she'll send you into a building, and you can't throw anything at her, 'cause she'll just send it right back to you. The only way to take her down is to break her hands, I guess. The wind comes from propellers built into her palms, and is controlled by the direction of her fingers, believe it or not. Grey, sweetie, I had to say this, but you might need to sit this one out."

Grey growled, casing Beast Boy to poke his fingers together and shift uncomfortably on his heels. "If this is about my height—"

Beast Boy held up his hands in a form of surrender. "Well, sweetheart, she can toss you into next week just by _breathing, _no offence meant, of course. You _are_ a bit too tiny to handle this—"

"Dad! I am fully capable of helping—" 

Suddenly, Beast Boy yelped and dissipated before them. Grey blinked, scowling hotly as her mother took over control. She knew fighting with her was a last cause. "Grey, listen to your father. The force of her wind is twice your weight, if not more, and I refuse to heal you if you stubbornly refuse to listen. Shia, keep her at bay. Dante, help him. You're sister will try all matter of ways to help, damn her stubborn nature. This villain can be handled by strength. Sam, Kira, this is up to you. If Shia has the chance, he can offer his aid to you. Tell the Twain boys to get everyone inside, away from all windows, if possible. We've already dispatched the police. Keep her at bay until then. Can you do that? If worst comes to worst, take the offense. Just keep in mind that she is not one to be handled with your alien powers."

Sam and Kiranne nodded as Ada moved to tell the Twain twins. "She's fast approaching," Raven stated, "and she has no qualms with hurting others. If possible, I need you to make sure she doesn't destroy the school. We already have enough debt to pay because it's a prime target. I do not want to have another meeting with that bastard Macintyre. I leave this up to you, Kiranne. Samara. Just be careful. Grey can only heal so much damage inflicted upon you. Don't get yourself killed. When you come home, I'll make sure you are rewarded."

Shia managed a small snicker as Raven cut off the link. Dahlia dropped her hand, gently fingering the ring. "Damn. Guess I'm pretty useless about now."

Sam shook her head as the wind approached heavily, the rain sending needles of pain through her skin. "Don't worry about it. Just get everyone to safety. Tell Mom—"

"Already here," Starfire sighed, dropping down beside her daughters, both of whom stood taller than her own six feet. "I need to get over to the middle school and grade school to warn them. I will be very upset if this woman happens to destroy the building in which Luc is supposed to be learning. He has enough problems being a troublemaker. Having a villain attack his school because he's my child will make things more difficult with his teachers." She turned to her red-headed daughters; both nearly mirror images of her. "Can you handle this?"

They nodded, watching her as she took to the skies, deftly moving away from the direction of the wind. When her body seemed to meld into the dark skies, the Titan girls slipped into defense mode, lean bodies tensed and ready.

The wind woman finally appeared, rising over the buildings on what seemed to be a large fan of sorts, the winds visibly whipping around her in white puffs. Her long hair was an undistinguishable color, trapped somewhere between white and gray, skin as pale as the snow. Her eyes were a solid black, with no recognizable iris and her teeth were that of a piranha. From what Sam could make out, she had no distinct form, body slender and straight, a total opposite from the curved figures of the Titan females. She wore what seemed to be a solid white leotard, and for a brief moment, Samara actually thought the woman was naked.

As the unusual woman spotted them, Sam smirked. "Of course we can handle this, right, Kira?"

She nodded, head cocked slightly as her eyes roamed over the beige fan.

The woman wasted no time in preening over her hopeful victory as she sent slices of wind down at the Titans with a clawed-like motion of her hand. Kira gave a quick glance behind her to make sure all the students were safe before she dived out of the way, using her hands to push off the ground and propel her body to the side. She skidded slightly, eyes already gleaming green-gold as the wind ripped through the ground, leaving scars of broken dirt.

The wind woman laughed haughtily, smirk dancing over her white lips. "My name is Hélène, the Master of the Winds, and I have come to destroy you!" The white woman lifted her hands toward them. Four spears of gray spun inside her hand, and the wind, which had once been calm and tranquil minutes ago, screamed against their ears as it was controlled against its will.

Kira sighed, tossing her now loose hair behind her back. She dove out of the way as another splinter of wind cut through the air. This one, however, managed to cut across her cheek. A trickle of blood slipped down her skin, but it was ignored, for another spray of needles pierced the ground. From across the way, Kira heard a low growl. One of the shards had most likely hit Sam, which meant that her sister was about to switch to offensive. It also meant that Kira was to play second string, for when Sam's anger took over, it usually meant someone was getting hurt, and it usually wasn't the villain.

So she stood back, ripping herself away from danger when the wind headed for her and letting Sam take control. If things played out as usual, Sam would weaken Hélène enough for Kira to take her down without too many casualties. Kira continued to move away from the constant barrage of wind, taking note that if she were to be hit fully, it would pierce through her skin and cause serious damage.

Kira dove behind an overturned metal lunch table, narrowly missing another swipe of wind. Sam was brooding slightly next to her as she ripped off a piece of her shirt to wrap the wound across her forearm. "Damn bitch," she muttered, shifting on her haunches.

"What can we do?" Kira asked, jerking slightly when the wind pounded into their cover, the metal denting against the strong gust.

"Hell if I know. We need to stop her somehow. The only way we could do that is to drag her down to the ground. She wouldn't have an advantage then. One of us will be a decoy. The other will move behind her, and get her off her damn fan. Too bad Grey can't help. We could use her power. If only Dante had learned his mother's powers instead of only his father's."

Sam unconsciously wiped the blood from Kira's cheek, cleaning the smear off her fingers on the thigh of her jeans. "Seeing as I get mad easily, I'll be the decoy. When I have her attention, find away to get away from the fan and drag her down from behind. If that doesn't work, then we'll just have to play it by ear. Okay?"

Kiranne nodded as she pulled her hair into a long ponytail, stray curls whipping around her face. "Okay."

"Plotting against me? Now, now, that's not nice, little ones. We should at least play it fair."

Sam glared as she jerked up, tossing a disc of gold light at the villain. She didn't expect it to do any damage, so when the woman sent her own power back at her, she merely dodged. With her attention fully riveted toward Sam, Kira managed to pull away from the wind.

Hélène caught movement from the corner of her black eyes, and for a brief moment, the wind died down. It gave Sam plenty of time to pelt the wind villain with a strong blast of gold energy. She managed to dodge again, however, and in her rage at Sam's tricky move, sent a strong gust of wind toward the oldest Grayson daughter. Sam cursed as the weight of the wind hurled her backwards.

All Sam could do was cross her arms over her face as her back slammed into Dante's favorite willow, the force uprooting the ancient tree and sending it crashing down along with Sam. The loud boom had Shia and Dante running outside, heels digging into the cement when the wind threatened to knock them over.

Shia squinted against the rain, eyes searching out his sisters. "Dammit, I can't see anything."

Dante eyes snapped toward the fallen form of his precious tree, animal eyes instantly finding the splash of fire red hair. For a moment, his heart stopped beating in his chest. Suddenly, memories of ten years prior fled back into his mind.

The white snow, the stench of blood, the spill of red hair and crimson death. The sight of Kira, innocent, shy, beautiful Kira, slowly dying as her blood seeped onto the ground. The long, jagged scar that she now harbored, all because no one noticed she had disappeared from their sight.

The memory had fear creeping into his throat; stomach lurching as he blindly ran to the red, prying it wasn't a repeat of the past. The wind cut into his skin, rain searing against his skin, but he had no thought of it. All he could think about was the waterfall of red hair and the unmoving body that could slowly be dying, all because he had been doing something other than protecting her.

But the form moved, straight red hair spilling onto the ground as she pulled herself to her hands and knees. He skidded to a halt beside her, paling when she coughed up blood. And then she lifted her head, two golden eyes leaping with fire.

"Sam," he managed to choke out, relief, fear and shock slamming into him like a freight train. "You…"

She swept her hand over her mouth and stood on shaky legs. "Dammit," she seethed. "That hurt like hell."

She felt the hot seep of blood down her back, and knew, without looking, that she had a shard of bark wedge between her shoulder blades. She turned her back to Dante, who still reeled with the shock of knowing Kira had not been the one hurt.

_She's okay, she's okay, she's okay_, he chanted as he numbly reached out to pull the small sliver from Sam's back. He couldn't figure out why his heart beat erratically in his chest, or why the relief threatened to drag him down to his knees. And then it hit him.

"Where is she?"

No one could answer him, for Hélène laughed merrily. "You, daughter of a human, think you can take me down with your meager power? No man on this earth can best me, for I am the wind!" 

The anger boiled heavily inside her, but a quick nudge from her brother had her smirking. "You're right. No man can best you on this earth." And then she was grinning widely, teeth white against her tan skin. "But I can promise you this, oh great wind goddess, that you take women a bit too lightly."

The woman did not even have time to mull over her statement, for Kira had slipped behind her with the ease of a skilled warrior, the wind whipping her hip-length curls over her shoulder.

There were no arrogant words or witty comebacks as Kira grabbed hold of the villain's skinny shoulders and lifted her from her fan. Surprised, the woman tried to turn and rip herself from Kira's unrelenting grip, nails slashing through the tender skin of her hand. Kira was unfazed as she jerked her away from her fan, which clattering to the ground once its master's control was ripped away.

Hélène bucked against the hard grip on her shoulders, jerking her head back to sink her teeth into the side of Kira's wrist. Even when she felt the blood fill her mouth, knew she had caused serious damage, the girl's grip did not lessen. In fact, the more the pain took over, the more her powers seemed to strengthen. Terrified, the wind master glanced up into the most frightening eyes she had ever seen.

Kira gave no real thought to the woman as she lifted the woman in front of her and hurled her to the ground. Her scream was high and piercing, like that of a banshee. Dante yelped as pain seared though his sensitive ears, claws tightening painfully over his elfin-ears. The pain intensified, forcing the shape shifter to his knees. Dante bowed forward, forehead against his knees as he felt the blood pool against his palms.

Hélène crashed to the ground, body skidding as her left shoulder sunk into the wet ground. The pain was almost too much for her to bear, and the banshee wails continued. It was her last defense, for not even the strongest alien could withstand the sharp sound.

Sam cringed as the glass behind her shattered, hands over her ears. She had to stop the damn woman, but as she moved forward, she found her vision wavering dangerously. Her feet gave out beneath her, and it was all she could do to keep her hands over her ears.

Kira dropped to the ground with a crash at the horrible sound, body slamming into the metal table she had earlier used as a shield. Hélène was still wailing, the sounds broken only by the much needed oxygen she was forced to breathe into her lungs. Kira knew she had to wait for the one moment where the woman took in a large breath, despite the fact that she would have to pull her hands from her ears to do so.

Kira hopped there wouldn't be serious damage to her era when she pulled her hands free, but decided that she had to stop this. A few feet away from her, Dante was wracked with pain, blood seeping from his fingers. If she didn't stop her, Dante could end up losing his hearing.

Resolve coursing through her veins, Kira waited until Hélène face turned purple. When she paused to take a breath, Kira lunged. Terrified, Hélène let out another wail, but Kira was already upon her. Without thinking, Kira grabbed the woman's head, and slammed it against the muddy ground, successfully filling her mouth with wet dirt. Pain slamming through her skull as her ears threatened to burst from the pressure of Hélène's wails, Kira twisted the woman until her entire front was to the ground, and straddled her back. The woman bucked beneath her, choking on the mud she had swallowed.

Kiranne jerked up Hélène arms, both hands pressed to her back. She knew she had to do something about her hands, but did not know if she could truly break them. But one look at the pain-ridden Dante and Kira felt the anger flare within her once again.

Shoving her conscious aside, Kira twisted the woman's wrist until she felt the broken break against her hand. There was a muffled wail from Hélène before she went completely still when the pain because too much for her mind to handle.

Kira dropped the woman's wrist and sat there, eyes trained on the broken wrists of her enemy. She didn't know how long she sat there, staring numbly at the injuries she had caused, but when she lifted her eyes, she found the entire school standing beneath the archway, uncaring that the rain doused their clothes or hair.

They were wide-eyed as Dahlia pushed past them, giving rough shoves from behind. When she spotted Kira, she forced her mind to calm down. There was a long cut across her cheek bone, the broken flesh already scabbed over. A small trail of blood dripped from her right ear, but was slowly being washed away with the rain. Dahlia took a shaky breath, hands rubbing against her wet thighs.

Pasting on a cool face, Dahlia walked toward her sister. She crouched down beside her, skillfully masking her flinch at the broken wrists of the woman beneath her. "Come on, Kiddo. Let's go get you cleaned up."

Dahlia knew she was too shocked to even notice her presence, and had to force back the pain in her heart. Kira would break down later when she was alone, would cry and weep until she couldn't seem to breathe. And would be unaware of the fact that her family and friends stood outside her door, torn up in so many ways at being unable to comfort her. It was one of the times that Dahlia felt real pain, and she hated it.

Grey burst out of the building, wet hair curling against her back. Her violet eyes scanned the wreckage before skimming over the blood. Quickly, her skilled eyes roamed over every cut, every bruise, and catalogued the worst. Her brother still seemed to be in pain, and one glance at his bloody hands had her darting over to him.

Kneeling down beside his bowed body, Grey leaned down slightly. "Dante, baby, let me see your ears."

He flinched as he pulled his own claws from his skin and dropped his hands to his side. Grey cooed at the thick stream of blood sliding from his injured ears, gently pressing her small hands against them. "How bad is it?"

He shook his head, nails digging into the ground as she healed his damaged eardrums, oblivious to the blood slipping between her fingers. "I know it hurts, Dante, but I swear I'll do the best I can to heal it."

Grey's eyes fluttered closed as she concentrated on his injury, letting the black energy seep into her baby brother and mend the wrongs.

"Where's Kira?" He choked out, his volume slightly off due to his damaged hearing. Grey pressed her forehead against her brother's crown, gently forcing him to lay his head against her lap.

"She'll be okay after awhile, Dante."

Dante's hands moved to her knees, trying to push his body up, but her hands tightened ever so slightly against his head. "Sshh, calm down, Dante. She's in shock right now. She had to break that banshee's wrist, and she's tearing herself up for it. There's nothing you can really do for her."

Dante cursed, claws digging slightly into Grey's skin. "Dammit, why does she always tear herself up for things like that?"

The pain was slowly being replaced by the calming heat of Grey's energy and before long, Dante could hear normally again. There was still a slight ache, but it was so much better than the blind pain that he brushed it off as nothing more than an annoying nuisance.

The distinct wail of sirens mingled with the pounding rain as Grey pulled her hands from her brother. Dante stood up on shaky feet while Grey moved to help Sam, eyes searching for Kira. He spotted the banshee woman and scowled. Stupid woman had caused more trouble that she was worth.

Tenderly, Dante pressed his fingers to the soft skin of his ear, shuddering at the pain he had moments ago gone through. Dante stepped over the woman, who was now starting to awaken, eyes drilling into the backs of Dahlia and Kira when he caught sight of them.

"Hey, Dahlia, wait a second."

Dahlia turned, black hair hanging in thick wet waves to her collarbone and green eyes troubled, despite the calm stretch of her mouth. "What?"

He shooed her away with a wave of his hand, ignoring the amused lift of her brow as he took her spot beside Kira. He threw her a dirty scowl as he pressed his hand to the small of Kiranne's back, her wet hair draping over his hand.

"I got it," he snapped, knowing exactly what Dahlia was thinking. "Besides, the Banshee is waking up. You can handle her better than anyone now that she is otherwise indisposed. Besides, you can handle Chase when he pounds question on you about Kiranne's whereabouts. You know how he feels about Kiranne. Swear the boy would kill himself if she asked." He tsked with a shake of his head. "Kiranne's got the boy whipped and doesn't even know it."

Pleased with the blush of anger it brought to Dahlia's tan cheeks, Dante swept his hand beneath Kira's knees to bring her to his chest. Her hands fist against his wet T-shirt, but her eyes were still dulled with shock.

"Take advantage of her and I will kill you, Dante. No matter how much you deny it, you care about Kira, and one of these days, you'll figure it out for yourself. I just hope you figure it out before it's too late." With that said, Dahlia turned her back to him, lifting two fingers in a lazy wave. Immediately, she was jumped by Chase, who started spouting off questions about Kira, just as Dante had predicted. Dante smirked at the ridged line of Dahlia's shoulders. "Same goes to you, Dahlia. Same goes to you."

XxX

The hallways were oddly empty as Dante carried Kira toward the bathroom. Glass crunched beneath his feet from the shattered window beside the double doors leading to the front of the building. Dante sighed. It was only a matter of time before the principal called them to his office and tried to kick them out for 'bringing their trouble to his school'. It wouldn't work, of course, for Hannah would fix the school up in an instant and have security doubled from its previous number.

Dante found everything to be way too troublesome and wished, not for the first time, that they would find a new principle that did not hate every thing they stood for. Heck, the vice principle loved them, as did almost every other teacher within the school building. But, they were nothing compared to the jackass that gave Kiranne a detention for being in the hallway when he happened to stroll by. She had been saving a group of kindergartners from an overturned bus that had slipped on a patch of ice on the way to a field trip. No one had forgiven him for that, and though Mr. Mayson had gotten her out of it, no one could stand the man.

So, much to his distain, Dante found himself peeking over corners to make sure the man was nowhere in sight. For added precaution, Dante sniffed the air. Happy with this, Dante rounded the corner and made his way toward the bathrooms. He needed to snap Kira out of her daze. Maybe, if he managed to drag her back to reality, she would finally let herself be comforted. Dante scowled as his stomach leaped in nervousness. Why the hell should he be nervous? All he would do was let her cry on his shoulder. No big. He did it with Grey when she had been hurt two years ago, and even let Starfire weep on his shoulder when Adara told her she was ready to have sex for the first time and that hiding it would have hurt a lot more than sneaking around behind her back. Shia had been too moody to comfort her, and Sam and Dahlia were trying to keep Robin from murdering Cameron.

He admitted that he had been a little embarrassed at the time, but he had never been nervous. Kiranne was just Kiranne. There was nothing to be nervous about.

But comforting was on a whole different level than merely talking. It was…emotional, he admitted with a frown. But he knew, if he comforted Sam, he wouldn't feel like fidgeting, and he had been in love with her half of his life time. That was done and over with, however, but still. He would have thought that comforting the girl had wanted to be with since he was six would have sparked some anxiety.

Dante stopped in front of the restrooms, briefly debating on which on to use. With a sigh, he decided she would feel more comfortable in her own domain. He leaned back slightly, eyes scanning both sides of the hallway to make sure no one saw him, and pushed open the doors to the girls' bathroom.

Dante pouted as he walked into the pale pink room, the scent of fresh flowers wafting to his nose from the air conditioner. It was…girly, he though with a shudder as he gently sat Kira down on the white fluffed couch against the far wall. But he would have to get over it, he though grudgingly as he turned to the monitor beside the glass mirror, and programmed in a wet rag. He scowled when the damn thing offered tampons, and quickly hit no.

He grabbed the white rag from the slot when it finally dropped from the storage bin, and stuck it under the faucet. He moved back to her, dropped down onto his knees and gently ran the cloth over her forehead.

The heat seemed to bring her back to the present. Her eyes lifted to his slowly. Dante flinched as the scent of despair washed over him, and her eyes filled with tears. "I hurt her."

Worry dropped down into his stomach like an anchor as he ran the cloth over the tears that spilled from her wounded eyes. "Kiranne, you had to. She would have hurt more people if you had not of done that. Her hands were weapons and she could have seriously hurt you." Inwardly he frowned at how corny he sounded but shoved it aside.

He fidgeted slightly as more tears fell, busying his hands by running the wet cloth over the cut across her cheek. He knew that she wasn't aware of what she was doing or whom she was speaking to, for the pain and guilt clouded her mind until she didn't know which way was up.

"I-I could have…I could have stopped her without hurting her. I-I didn't have to—I could have…I was just so mad…she hurt you, and I just wanted…I wanted it to all stop."

Dante nearly sputtered at her teary admission. She had hurt that damn banshee because she had wounded him? That was why she had done it?

Well, hell.

Dante eased onto the couch beside her as her tears feel heavily onto her clenched hands. "Kiranne…" Dante realized he had nothing to say to her. There were no more words—corny or otherwise—he could think of that would help her now. His heart stuttered in his chest as he hesitantly draped his arm over her shoulder. He felt like an idiot until she leaned into him, exhausted.

The fire was back again, but instead of shooting down his arm, it made a beeline for his heart, before taking a nosedive into his stomach, where his damn hormones decided to take charge. Disgusted at himself for feeling arousal at Kira leaning against him, Dante adjusted his arms so he could pull her completely into his lap.

She stiffened at first, hands pushing against his chest to move off him, but he leaned foreword slightly, hands cupping her jaw. It was the closest he had ever been to her. "You can't hold it in all the time, Kiranne. For once, just let it out. Let me help you with this." Though her face flushed, there was something in her eyes that seemed to wrap around his heart. It was that one, frightening feeling that had him adding, "I want to help you, Kiranne."

Although she did not break like he expected her to, Kira seemed to give in a little at a time, until her head was nestled under his chin, body curled into herself until she fit perfectly into the circle of his arms. Dante found this amazing, that such a tall, strong girl could fit against him, just by pulling her knees up.

Dante could feel the tears soak through his shirt, felt her fingers clutch tighter against the fabric, and found himself pulling her closer to him. He never would have thought that would hold Kiranne like this; that he would _want_ to hold her like this. Kiranne had always been just another person in his life, one whom he saw every morning and every night.

Unfortunately, she was also the shy, innocent girl who embarked some perverted fantasy in his mind about real love and actual relationships. Hell, he had dreamt of her on more than one occasion, and, though most of them would cause Kira to have an aneurism at what he was doing to her, some happened to be…_romantic._ He dreamed of other girls, like most teenage boys, but the ones with Kira happened to have something sweet and icky and all together fairytale-ish before it got to the hard core sex. For one who detested all the romantic crap that some girls seemed so fond of, it was amazing that such a innocent, virginal girl who had yet to even experience her first kiss could make him out to be so…_gooey_.

He had even had dreams where he _was_ her first kiss, and he had behaved…gah, it was horrible to even think about it. And then his damn subconscious would throw random—he didn't know if he could classify them as nightmares, but they did have him jerking up in bed feeling sick to his stomach—images into his head. He hated waking up and remembering dreams of Kira with Dick, or Chase, or other men she had smiled at. It made him feel sick when he dreamed one of them took her first kiss, or heaven forbid, had sex with her. It ripped at him constantly, and there were times when Dante wanted to strangle the sad man who had the disadvantage of having him dream of them taking Kiranne's innocence. It was one reason why Chase avoided him in the morning.

He just couldn't figure out why, though. Sure, okay, he was physically attracted to her, and the thought of anyone else but him having her drove him up a wall, but why did those damn nightmare-ish dreams hurt so much? Why in the hell did he want her so bad, even if she was the exact type of girl he refused to have anything to do with. He didn't do first kiss/first time things. He was always the fourth or fifth kiss/lover, and it was all right with him. It made the guilt easier when it was time to break things off. If he were to be with Kira, and actually take her…first kiss _and_ her virginity, he would forever feel tied to her, like breaking things off was as sin. And he didn't need that, no matter how much his traitorous body wanted to take them both.

Dante frowned heavily when his mind replayed past dreams of him doing just that. It took all of his willpower to keep from jerking Kira up and making those dreams reality. Instead, Dante gently picked her up.

Kira's head jerked up at the sudden movement, eyes bright with the final dam of tears as she pushed at his chest to get down. Annoyed, Dante snapped, "Stop moving, Kiranne."

He felt her eyes caress his face as she settled back against him, almost as if afraid to make any sudden movements, for fear of him snapping. The soured his mood even more. "Look, Kiranne, I'm going to take you home so you can get some rest. If I carry you, then I will have a valid excuse for not helping clearing up the mess outside, so it's a win-win situation. You get to smell my hotness, and I get out of cleaning."

He glanced down at her with a wink, mood lightening considerably when she blushed as he used his back to push out of the bathroom. "So, do you mind?"

A stray tear slipped down her jaw. "No. I don't mind." Dante bit back a groan at the throaty sound of her voice, and had to think about anything other than the sexy slide of it against his now-healed eardrums.

He was too busy thinking about non-arousing things to notice the sudden spike of cigar smoke and lemon heads coming around the corner. He did take notice, however, when he felt a deadly aura drilling into his skull.

He managed a sighed, "Damn," before the principal stormed up to them, smoke leaking from his red ears.

"_Logan!_" He screeched, his volume reaching painful heights. Dante bit back a flinch as he newly restored hearing threatened to leave him once again. He did, however, mange to stick his finger into his aching ear while still keeping a firm grip on Kira, who was fighting back heavily now.

"Yes?"

Dante jerked back when Kira pinched the tender skin of his ribs, a frown settling over his mouth as she push out of his grasp, cheeks hot. He scowled at her as he rubbed the abused skin, something akin to a pout forcing his lower lip to stick out.

"What havoc have you brought upon us now? Have you seen the courtyard? Have you seen the glass? Have you seen the pandemonium and the parents' faces as they come up to the school and know that their children were minutes away from dying because of your need to prove you think you're better than us? I should have you all arrested! If I could, I would expel you all from my school and make sure you never get a decent education!"

Dante, used to such an expletive threat, merely nodded, idly scratching the back of his head as the principal fumed before him. "Yes, I know, we deserve to be punished for defending the city and making sure no lives are taken. I get it. However, we're doing everything we can to repair the damage, and all the students are fine. No one was hurt. No one was close to being hurt, and you know good and well the insurance covers the damage. Aunt Hannah—I mean Mrs. Matthews—will fix everything up in less than a week. Everything will be fine. Just…calm down. We don't want to get your blood pressure up, now do we?"

Mr. Macintyre exploded, face flushed and eyes flaming. "Logan, do not take that sarcastic tone with me! I am sick and tired of having to cancel my school for days at a time while we clean up after you. I am sick of walking into a class and having that damned communicator going off during exams, or having your mother pull you from class to go clean up after another villain. This is a building for education and you are screwing it up with your supposed heroism! If you are enrolled in this school, then you learn. Otherwise, get out. And, dammit, you're getting blood on my floor!"

"What?" Dante immediately sniffed the air, wondering how the hell he missed the pungent metallic smell. He whirled toward Kira, whose head was lowered, long bangs obscuring her eyes.

"Kiranne, look at me." Thinking that maybe the cut across her cheek was worse than he first presumed, Dante gently wrapped his long fingers against her chin to tilt her face toward him. He frowned at the scabbed wound. There was no trace of blood on her cheek.

His eyes dropped down to the floor, eyes narrowing on the small droplets of crimson splashing onto the cold tiles of the hallway. Muscles stiffening, Dante followed the trail of blood, only to find it dripping from her arm. Her jeans were stained with it, shirt painted roughly with red from where she had futilely pressed her wounded arm to staunch the bleeding. A quick glance at his own shirt showed him that she had been bleeding since he pulled her into his lap moments earlier.

His heart dropped into his stomach. "Dammit, Kiranne, why didn't you tell me?" Why didn't he notice it? Was he so worried about her emotional stability that he failed to miss the slow flow of her blood? How did he not pick up on it? Cursing his inability of doing anything right around her, Dante jerked her arm up to him, scowling at the deep fang marks marring the side of her wrist. It looked as if when the woman had set her teeth into Kira, she had jerked back, fangs still intact, ripping the skin from the wound. Biting back a flinch, Dante turned her hand over, palm against his, and took note of the long, jagged slashes against the back of her hand.

"Jesus, Kiranne, you took a lot of damage from that stupid banshee, didn't you?"

He felt her try to pull from his grip yet his hands stayed on hers. "Come on," he said with a sigh, brushing off the sputtering Macintyre behind him as he pulled Kira to his side. He would have preferred to just carry her out of the building, but he knew her pride couldn't take another blow. Having him cart her around like a weakling would have done serious damage. So, he pressed a hand to her back, keeping his pace slow so she could gain strength back into her wobbly legs. And when her body had gained back strength, it would start.

After awhile, the shock would ware off and the pain would come, but no one would be able to tell when the exchange happened. For one so easy to read, Kira was an expert at hiding her own pain. It annoyed Dante to no end, but he had to admit that he admired her for it. She didn't want to bring anyone down with her sorrow, but it was so much harder on her when the pint up pain irrupted, leaving her defeated and broken for days on end. And still, they were never able to tell.

Dante sighed softly as he pushed open the shattered door. The rain was still coming down in torrents, but the courtyard was desolate now, nothing but overturned benches and shard of Dante's willow littering the rain-soaked battlefield. Her sisters lingered around the now-empty parking lot in a variety of emotions. Sam looked ready to kill as Raven healed any internal injuries her crash against the tree had caused. Dante figured his mother had shown up with Beast Boy, Robin, Twain, Connor, Colt, and Harley.

Ada looked nervous, hands wringing as Colt explained about the injuries of the banshee. From snippets of conversation, Dante concluded that although the woman had both of her wrists broken, she was fine and screaming profanities at the officers courting her to the hospital. Cam, of course, was right there by her side, and though no part of him touched her, it was clear that he was her beacon of keeping controlled.

Dahlia, as usual, Dante thought with a smirk, was detached and cynical as her father ranted and raved about his dojo. A smirk was heavy on her lips as she cocked a hip against a pole, deftly avoiding Robin's expressive hands. Her eyes, in the process of rolling heavenwards, spotted them walking toward the familiar group, Kira's pace slow and steady.

"Kira," she said as she pushed herself off her resting spot. Robin, amongst his loud rambling, heard his daughters name and perked up immediately. He was beside her before Dahlia had a chance to blink.

"Hi baby. Are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Are you bleeding? Where are you bleeding? Are you okay? No broken bones? Where are the broken bones?" Kira smiled as her father panicked over her minor wounds, her walls constructing at a quick and unhealthy pace.

Dante was frowning down at her when Dahlia happened to approach them. Her stride was measured and just a little cocky as she melded her side against Dante's. His frowned deepened.

"So what happened in there?" She asked her voice airy and eyes smug.

He felt a vein twitch under his eyes. "Nothing, Dahlia."

"Really?" Dahlia's eyes scanned over her triplet's form, gauging every tiny scrape and bruise behind a mischievous glint. "You didn't happen to…" her voice trailed off as her eyes landed on her sister's wrist, but her tone slipped into her normal evil alto. "…_take _anything, did you, Dante?"

His body stiffed involuntarily. "What do you mean?" he ground out between clenched teeth, all too aware that both Kira and her father listened intently.

Dahlia, wide mouth creasing in a smirk, trailed over Kira once again. "You know what I mean, Dante. We all know our Kira has a lot to give." Robin turned heel and fled the opposite direction, deciding that his old heart couldn't take the conversation about anything his daughter had to give to any boy.

Dahlia smiled wickedly—which Dante realized was the only smile she had in her small array of facial expressions—and rested her callused hands on her muscled hips. "We still have reason to call her our Virgin Goddess, right?"

Dante couldn't help but sputter as Kira turned an interesting shade of red. "Wh—what? What the hell are you—how can you insinuate—do you really—how could you think—dammit Dahlia, you just made Kiranne faint!"

Dahlia folded her lips together in amusement as Dante fluttered over the still form of her still blushing sister, currently sprawled on the ground from her tumble. "Interesting," she murmured, body instantly recognizing the presence of Chase. To make her day ever better, she rammed her elbow into his midsection when he stood beside her. "Very interesting."

XxX

Robin liked to think that Sam was his child to a t. She was hardheaded, stubborn, and withdrawn from most people. She fought with her heart and not her mind, trained until her callused hands bled and her body wavered in strain. She was protective, kind in most aspects, and hated giving up without a passion. But her temper…

Well, he wasn't sure where she got that.

Robin inched closer to the car door as Sam fumed next to him, fury radiating off her body in dangerous waves. Robin tried not to breathe for fear of making her blow, but when his lungs demanded air, he had no choice but to drag in a large gulp of air. He waited, body splashed up against the window, for her to blow, or pummel him, or do something to him that eventually would cause him bodily harm.

But she merely seethed beside him, eyes and hands glowing despite the latter being crossed under her chest. He, being the warrior he was, let his body relax to the point where it was no longer painful and risked a glance over his shoulder at his youngest triplet, who still blushed from her earlier conversation with her sister. Dante brooded in the very back of the monstrous van, sandwiched between the Twain twins. Dahlia smirked happily in front of him.

"Hey, Dad, didn't Aunt Rae mentioned a surprise?" Adara asked, scooting closer to the second row of seats where her father sat. She was nestled between her sisters comfortably on the third row.

Robin thanked all that was holy for his little girl's comment, for Sam seemed to cool down enough for the heat to stop scorching his flesh. However, she turned hot eyes onto him. Robin shrank back ever so slightly. "Umm, yes, yes she did. He—I mean it," he corrected after Raven turned in the front seat to pin him with a glare, "it's at the tower right now."

Robin cursed Sam's ability at catching the smallest slipups when she asked, "Did you just say he?"

Raven spoke up when Robin only managed to stumble over his words. "Sam, you're scaring your poor father with your temper. He doesn't know which way is up, he's so melded with the door. Loosen up a little. It takes a hell of a lot to make your father this flustered."

Samara's anger deflated gradually. "Oh. I'm sorry, Daddy. It's just…not only did she cause more destruction to the school that we have to pay for, but she hurt Kira, Dante, me. Had Raven not come, I would have serious internal bleeding from being slammed into that damn tree. She nearly caused Dante to lose all his hearing, ripped his tree from the ground—which I'm sorry for, by the way—and made Kira hurt her just to stop her. It pisses me off that she just waltzed up to Jump City and caused pandemonium for no apparent reason. She's the first villain we've seen in a while and I guess I just wasn't as prepared as I should have been."

Shia exchanged looks with his father. "Does this mean you're going on one of those training binges where you work until you drop?"

Samara scowled at her twin. "My training is not that strenuous."

From the back seat, Dahlia snorted.

"Have you lost your mind? Sam, you nearly kill yourself every time you do that. You eat that nasty, healthy crap, you train from like, four in the morning till midnight, and you do it for weeks at a time! How many times have we had to dunk you in an ice bath just to get you to wake up?"

Sam opened her mouth to snap a scathing retort, but Kira spoke up quietly from the back. "I…I can help you train." She blushed when her sister glanced back at her with a raised eyebrow. "I—I mean if th—that might help you. You don't have to. I was just suggesting that maybe I—I help you if you think you need to get s-stronger."

Robin watched as his daughter went to scary/furious to cheerful/delighted. It was such a drastic change that Robin had to doubt his eyes. "You would do that for me?" Sam asked her voice soft.

Kira blushed again. "I—I—of course I would. I don't know how m-much help I could be to you b-but I would be willing to t-try."

Ada poked her shy sister lovingly in the side. "Not be of help? Kiddo, you could take every single one of us on at that same time and still kick our ass. You're like…the epitome of a warrior. I would run in a second if someone told me I was up against you. Sam's probably the only one who could put up half of a fight against you, and she's _scary _when she fights." Adara nodded quickly, long hair tumbling over her shoulder and resting against her breast. "You'd be the perfect way for Sam to train. I mean, if she can even get you _winded_, she would have like, I don't know, trained as much as she possibly could. Not even Dahlia, who is really, really hard to beat at anything, can't hold a candle to your superior strength."

Ada grinned when Dahlia made an insulted huff in the back of her throat. "You realize that you just slammed Sam and me into the ground, right?"

Ada laughed, easing her finger gently between her brooding sister's rib and causing her to jump and slap at her hand. "I know. But you know I'm right."

"You don't have to rub it in. I like to keep my inferiority under wraps, if you don't mind."

Kira opened her mouth to quickly exclaim that she wasn't as good as her sisters said when Cameron supplied, "You're an excellent fighter, Dahlia, but no one can match Kira. Not even her mother has the capability to beat her."

Kira was near the point of waving her hands wildly when Dante scoffed, "Doesn't matter what anyone does to her, she's always going to come out the winner. No cuts or bruises, or any form of wound could keep her down. Stupid stamina," he muttered, cursing his inability at real fighting strength. He could fight, that much he knew, but if he were ever against Kira…he would so get his ass handed to him in seconds flat.

"I-I'm n-not t-that g-good!" Kiranne stammered; face flaming at all the praise. She felt like her blood was boiling beneath her skin.

"No kidding. Dude, she nearly knocked me out with a freaking plush ball," Chase muttered. "And she wasn't even throwing that hard."

"I-I'm s-sorry—"

"Right? I think she popped my shoulder out of place that last time we played and the damn girl just tossed it aside. I was in the freaking way, I guess. I still have a bruise from it." Dante jerked down the right side of his shirt to see if his claim still held true, causing Kira to sputter and flame in front of him.

He inspected the healing bruise with a few clicks of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Yep. There it is. In all its yellow/green glory."

Kira shoved aside all shyness as she ripped around in her seat to check for herself. Dante's eyes went wide when she ran two callused fingers against his skin, causing ripples of heat to race across his flesh. Her fingers moved to his collarbone where the bruise ended and he swore his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Next to him, Chase and Cameron snickered.

"I—I, you didn't tell me," she said softly, her wounded eyes lifting to his. He felt like a lowlife for no apparent reason. He cursed his damn mushy heart.

"I was in too much pain," he snapped, an involuntary pout shaping his mouth.

Kira jerked her fingers from his hot skin as if scaled, slowly turning back around in her seat with an expression that screamed guilt. Dante opened his mouth, apology rancid on his tongue, but Chase and Cameron beat him to it. They simultaneously smacked the back of his head.

"Hey! What the hell?! I was going to—"

"Shut up, Dante," Grey sighed. She was watching everything from her spot on her mother's lap, back pressed against the front car door. She shook her head when Dante opened his mouth. He closed it again as he tucked his hair behind his ear. Grey smiled.

"So, what is this surprise?" Ada asked again when the tension became too thick.

Grey leaned back to watch her mother smirk. "You'll see. It will…be interesting, to say the least."

Grey raised an eyebrow, but her mother did not elaborate. She thought about pocking around in her mind, or any of the adults in the van, but decided against it.

She was more of a surprise girl as it was.

So she settled back against her mother while her father chattered energetically at the wheel. Raven listened with half an ear, nonchalantly running her hand through her daughter's drying hair and twisting strands around her fingers.

Her smirk, however, never died.

XxX

Starfire waited at the garage entrance, hands loose against Lucan's thin shoulders. She smiled widely as her family poured from the van.

"How were things?" She asked, eyes roaming over her children's forms, smile still in place. It never faltered, even when hitting Sam's bloody back and forearm.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Villain attacks, pisses Sam off. Sam gets hurt/pissed again and tries to do things solo. Kira melds into the background, waits for Sam to wear the idiot down. Kira attacks, things get settled, and Sam still ended up fuming. Nothing different," Dahlia sighed indifferently, easily snapping her shoulder back when Sam threw at lazy punch.

Dahlia let out another huff of breath when her back popped at the sudden movement. Sam scowled at her younger sister before giving up with a shrug. "Whatever. I, uh, think I'm going to take a quick shower. I can feel the blood caked against my spine." She grimaced.

Raven winked at Shia as she gracefully stood behind Sam. "Before you do, let me check and make sure everything's how it's supposed to be."

The males quickly left as Sam made a move to lift her shirt. No one really wanted to deal with an angry Tameranian at the moment. The girls followed behind them, curiosity getting the better of them when Starfire softly murmured that they could see the 'surprise' Raven had mentioned earlier.

Sam tossed her bloody shirt to the side as Raven walked slow circles around her, trained eyes scanning over every visible inch of her. She was slightly jealous at the young girl's figure, thinking back to the days where her body harbored even a sliver of the muscle that Sam had. Finding her mind wondering into depressing territory of old age, Raven ran her fingers over her back, lazily tracing the outline of her tattoo.

"The wound wasn't that bad. But that sure is a lot of blood…that has to be uncomfortable." Raven patted the girl's back as she moved away. "You're smart in wanting a bath."

Sam smiled down at the tiny woman, gently rolling her shoulders when Raven asked, "Is there an ache?"

"Hmm, no. Just tense, I guess."

Raven nodded, keeping her eyes locked on Sam's as she walked back toward the doors. "Go ahead on up. We won't be doing anything for tonight, so there's no need in getting dressed. I'm sure you're going to work on your training regiment?"

Sam shrugged slightly, one eye narrowed slightly at the hidden smile dancing in Raven's violet eyes. "Maybe. Depends." Both eyes narrowed as the smile appeared full force. Sam frowned. Raven only smiled like that when someone was getting their ass kicked or she had something unpleasant planned.

Raven said nothing as she turned on her heel and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Sam alone and shirtless on the garage. She mulled over Raven's attitude as she snatched her shirt from the ground, spreading it open to gauge the damage on it. Since it was a black shirt, the blood was barely visible, but the long tear was. Her mouth turned down at the corners as she plucked shards of wood from the cloth. Finding the task useless, she tossed it over her shoulder, cringing at the thought of putting the dirty shirt back on. She would rather have Dante or Chase catch her without a shirt on. She'd have good excuse to pound them, then.

So she smiled as she pushed open the doors and made her way to the stairs. She really didn't feel like using the transporter. _Beside_, she amended as she took the long flight of stairs three at a time, _I get a good workout_.

By the time she hit the tenth floor, a fine sheen of sweat glistened across her chest and hips. Sam scowled. Normally, running ten floors would have barely caused her to breathe heavily. Now, however, she felt like resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

"I so need to work out more." She plopped her hands on her hips as she walked toward the bathroom, measuring her breathing to a slow, steady pace. Beneath her skin, her heart galloped at the exertion. She sighed and bowed her head. "No wonder I got my ass handed to me by that banshee. I've become a sloth."

Sam groaned as she glanced down at her black sports bra, adjusting it when it threatened to flash everything in the hallway. She really needed to get a better brand, she mused as she walked into the bathroom, nonchalantly pressing in the lock code onto the computer beside the mirror. After checking to make sure things were in order, Sam coded in the water temperature.

She settled on hot to help sooth her sore back. She had lied to Raven when she said nothing ached. She knew, by tomorrow, there would be a nasty bruise stretched over her shoulder blades. It would be a serious contrast against the tattooed dragon spread over her back.

Remembering about the new addition to her body, Sam turned to see where the shard had been imbedded. Had it not of been healed, it would have scared just above the black and red dragon's gold-slit eyes.

Sam smirked as pulled off the rest of her clothes and stepped beneath the hot spray. Her mother had not been pleased when she had announced that she was getting her first tattoo. Robin had sputtered and steamed when she jerked her shirt up to show him her baby. He had grounded her for a day, even though her brother (who had wisely hidden his) and Grey had gotten one with her. He had cooled down—well, _almost_—when he found that Starfire had sneaked one in as well. She had been the one to sign the papers for them, after all.

Sam scrubbed at her skin with her favorite soap as the heat billowed around her, careful of her forearm. She hadn't let Raven heal it, for it was punishment for letting her guard down enough to get hurt. When the putrid smell of blood was washed from her skin, Sam scrubbed at her hair, scowling at each leaf and branch shard she pulled from the thick mane.

She couldn't figure out why it had been so easy for her to be beaten. The wind was a disadvantage, of course, but the fight had barely lasted thirty seconds before she had been hurt. She lifted her arm to study the long cut. Had her temper really gotten the best of her? Was the why she was always getting into trouble? Samara admitted that she was a bit of a hothead, but was the really the reason why it was so easy to defeat her?

She stepped out of the shower after snapping a command to shut off the spray, mind drifting to each battle she had been in. Each time, someone had said or done something to spark her anger, and each time, she had come out with a scar or bruise from it. And Kira had always been the one to do something about it. Kira was always the one there to save her when she let her temper override the logic.

That was wrong. She should be the one protecting her little sister, not the other way around. Dahlia could hold her own when it came to close combat and used her famous arrows only when everything else failed. Adara refused to fight, so when things got ugly, she moved out of the way and gathered civilians. But Sam? Sam fought and fought and fought until her fury clouded her judgment, leaving her angry and stupid. So she got hurt, though most times it was just a scratch, and Kira would jump into the fray with not a word, and take the villain down in less that a minute.

Was there something wrong with her? Was she just not good at what she loved? For the first time in a while, Sam started to doubt herself. Maybe she just wasn't cut out for the whole superhero thing. No one wanted or need a brash, overconfident hero protecting them.

She wrapped a thick white towel around her long body, quickly cataloging every scar she had. There were quite a few, but none stood out more than the one slashing across her right hip. Not even Raven could heal the wound she had sustained at thirteen. And it all boiled down to her damn temper. She had been clumsy and had gotten seriously hurt for it.

Gently, she traced the puckered scar with her index finger. No more. No longer would she allow her anger to get the better of her. She was better than that. If she could just rein it in when someone attacked, she could probably fight and win without the help of Kira. Every villain knew about her weakest point and all used it against her.

Well, that wouldn't be a problem anymore, she decided as she marched to her room. No one would be able to defeat her because of her anger. No one in the tower could poke and prod at her for being easy to flame. They would all see that she was a good fighter, that she could protect the city by herself if the time ever arose.

Content now, Sam slapped her lotion of the same scent as her soap while searching for something comfortable to wear. Tonight, she would allow herself time to kick back and enjoy life by stuffing her face with pizza and fries. She would watch a movie, maybe talk Kiranne into cooking her favorite desert. And then, she would sleep in until ten.

But after that, it was nothing but training. She would ask for Dahlia's help in controlling her emotions, then seek out Kira to have her spar against her. Getting her ass kicked would help serve in reminding her that she needed to be stronger, faster, smarter, calmer.

She wasn't a lost cause, she mused as she jerked a simple white tank top over her bra. She could handle anything thrown at her, even if it was her own goals she was setting. Things would be fine now. She could and would prove that she wasn't useless.

She pulled on her favorite pair of shorts that rode low on her hips and slipped high up her thighs, smiling down at the red cloth with a white strip down the side for no apparent reason.

After brushing her long hair and pulling it back into a high pony tail, Sam threw on her ancient white Nike Shox and darted toward the door, her mood at its highest. She shouldn't worry of her weakness right now. There were better things at hand.

"Hey, Sam, where are you? You've been gone for thirty minutes."

Sam twisted around to her computer where Shia had called from. She plopped down into her chair and directed the link back to her brother. "Sorry. I was…soul searching, I guess. That, and you know a girl has to take her long hot shower."

"Soul searching?" He asked with a grin. "Really now? That's…ironic."

An arched eyebrow rose. "Ironic? How so?" Behind him, Grey flapped around widely, waving enthusiastically and begging with her to come see the surprise. Shia turned around to swat at the tiny witch, who merely danced out of the way. He turned back around with a grunt. He opened his mouth to say something else to his twin, but Grey swooped in and planted a loud kiss against his cheekbone.

Sam chuckled softly as her brother flamed red. "So, what's the surprise? Did Cyborg finally fix my truck? I _did_ wreck it four months ago."

There was a loud huff to the side of Shia. Someone shoved Shia out of his seat so he toppled to the floor with a yelp. Cyborg appeared moments later. "Hey now, I'm working on it. You freaking totaled the front fender to the point where I had to completely reconstruct it. That, and you somehow blew one of your speakers listening to your rap and rock music. But don't worry, little one. I should be finished by today or tomorrow."

Sam felt a thrill of pleasure skate down her spine at the thought of being able to drive her baby. Her red four-door 2008 Doge Ram was her child. It had killed her when a stupid villain had hit her head on during a chase. She had cried for hours after Cyborg had towed her precious truck away.

"Are you lying to me?" She asked, squirming in her seat in excitement. Cyborg chuckled.

"No. I swear on my T-Van that I will have Flame ready for the road by tomorrow."

Sam mumbled a excited "yes!", complete with a victory sign. If anything could make her pop out of her detached shell, it was her truck.

"Now," Cyborg smiled when someone laughed deeply behind him. Sam tried to place the sound with a face, but no one came to mind. She couldn't remember anyone having such a deep laugh before… "Why don't you come on down to the main room? Everyone is waiting for you." Cyborg gave a knowing grin as he shut off the communication.

Sam frowned at the black screen, wondering over everyone's strange behavior. She tried to think about possibilities as she walked down the winding hallways, idly pulling her wet ponytail over her shoulder and braiding the long length. For reasons unknown, her heart pounded in excitement, stomach sinking in nervousness. Something was up, that was for sure.

By the time she made it to the main door, her body was in all matters of nervousness. She thought about turning back and running to the comfort of her room, but decided against it. Besides, why was she so nervous in the first place? It was probably a huge pile of pizza waiting for her. That was all it could be.

So why was she so nervous?

Chastising herself for being such a coward, Sam shoved into the main room. All sound seemed to stop. Eyebrows rising into her hairline, Sam stepped completely into the large, crowded room.

"Okay, so what is this…surprise…?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, a smile spreading over his beautiful mouth. His smoky gray eyes were framed with long, thick lashes and dazzling against his tan skin. The scar slashing against his eyebrow was bright against his dark hair that was in its usual uncontrollable style, with a thick strand constantly swooping down over his scar-free eyebrow. His body, once so scrawny and slim, was padded with just the right amount of muscle. His simple collard shirt pulled tightly over said muscle, making him so much more appealing than he ever could have been at nineteen. He was tall now, almost as tall as her brother, which was more of a surprise than the muscle.

Sam felt her heart burst inside her chest as he grinned down at her, teeth impossibly white against his tan skin. "Hey, Sammy."

She watched him rake his long fingers through his curled hair and felt a blush explode along her skin.

"Christian."

XxX

Rebecca leaned against the railing, cheek cupped in her palm. A sad sigh escaped her painted mouth. "She failed."

Gizmo grunted beside her, arms folded over his beefy chest. "Yes. Taken down by the youngest triplet. Barely put up a fight, despite her having an upper hand."

She pouted as she watched her toys kill each other off to prove their strength. The top ten fighters would become her army. She had no use for those who were weak, so she decided that offing each other was the best bet at finding the true strength. . "This doesn't surprise me. Not in the least. It's nearly impossible to be victorious when Kira gets mad. I take it the wails hurt Dante Logan?"

"Hmm, yes. Badly. His sensitive hearing was damaged."

Rebecca chuckled. "You hurt Dante, you're going to be beaten down by her. She's hopelessly in love with him. She'd die for her him the chance ever arose." Rebecca sighed again. She hated the fact that Kira wanted someone else, that her heart had already been taken by some boy who didn't even acknowledge she existed. It was disconcerting, this fact, but made the fact of taking Kira for herself all the more appealing. If there was one thing more that she love other than watching virginal girl be raped, it was raping a virginal girl while the boy she had loved since childhood watched; finally figuring out that the same girl who he had ignored was the one who he really wanted. She knew, from experience, that watching the girl he just figured he loved was taken from him, body and soul, right before his eyes. It broke them more than any form of torture ever could.

They couldn't handle it. Rebecca loved watching them break as her husband or Kenneth mercilessly raped the girl. It gave her the utmost pleasure to see them beg and weep for the girl's mercy, their body ripping at the chains holding them until blood seeped from their skin. Oh, and then watching their faces as she killed the girl nearly brought her to a climax every time. She knew, that if she raped Kira over and over again and forced Dante to watch, every other victim would be completely insignificant to them. There would be no greater pleasure in her life than knowing she was breaking two of the Titans children in one fatal swoop.

She was nearly giddy with the thought as she latched onto Gizmo's thick forearm, body pressed up against his side. "Oh, oh, oh, Gizzy, I know what I want."

He glanced down at her, eyes soft and mouth hard. She trembled at his expression. "I want Dante, too. I want Dante to watch us rape her! I want him tied up, completely vulnerable, with no chance of him escaping us, so he can watch and scream and cry and beg until his throat is raw and his mind and heart and soul is ripped from him. Ooh, ooh, ooh, can you do that for me? Can you make it to where we can torture Kira in front of him?"

She waved her hands in excitement when he nodded. "Oh, this is going to be amazing! This is going to be so fucking awesome! I never thought about making him watch us! Then, then, when Kira's broken, I can have him too! He is so adorable! I mean, he's not handsome, but he has this baby face that just make you want to tie him up and take him over and over and over again until he's exhausted and spent. He won't mind…Ooh! Wait! We can then make Kira watch that! Wouldn't it be amazing to have them both watch each other get raped by us?" Her fingers tightened against his skin, eyes imploring as they searched his.

Gizmo fought back the urge to fidget. "I don't like rape."

Rebecca pouted as she ran her finger over his thick collarbone. "But, but…I want to see you rape Kira…that would…I would…it would give me so much pleasure seeing you do that…" When she glanced up at him, tears swam in her eyes.

This time, Gizmo did flinch. "You really want me to rape…rape Kiranne Grayson?"

She nodded slowly, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I would love for you to do that. It would…I would feel so much closer to you if you did." She sniffed softly, and Gizmo decided that he as so whipped.

"Only once, right?"

Her eyes brightened. "Yes, only once. You can have her first. But you gotta promise me that you'll enjoy it. That and you have to really hurt her. I know you can. I know you make her scream in pain. Oh, please, Gizzy. It's all I ask of you."

Feeling sick to his stomach, Gizmo nodded. "Okay. I'll do it. But just for you."

She squealed in excitement, arms tight around his thick neck as she kissed him soundly. "Oh, this means so much to me."

She was grinning as she turned back to watch her pandemonium. "Besides," she added with a soft smile as Blade twisted around, angling his broad sword to slice an unsuspecting head off another man's shoulders. She trembled in pleasure as blood coated her basement floor. "Once you do it, you can't seem to get enough of it. Trust me. Just watching draws you in, I promise. It did me." She turned her head to smile lovingly at her favorite villain. "I used to be sane long ago."

Gizmo nodded, but he did not trust her words. He didn't know if he could handle raping the young girl, but if Rebecca wished it of him, then he would do it. He just had to psyche himself up to it. Maybe keeping an eye on her movements would help him out. Rebecca did keep enough footage of her to maybe spark his lust.

But it did nothing to stop the sick feeling eating away at his insides. His hands tightened against the metal railing, the metal denting under his strength. Rebecca merely smiled. "You know," she said easily as a spray of blood splattered against her cheek, "I researched your former teammate."

Gizmo stiffened. "Really?" His voice was hard, warning her that this was not a topic he wished to discuss. If Gizmo had to rape any woman, it would have been that traitor Jinx.

"Umm-hmm. She's got four kids. Rose, the oldest, who is twenty years old. A set of twin girls, Sakura and Sahara, both eleven, and a son, Wesley, who is five." Idly, she wiped the blood from her skin. "Rose—ironic, that she would name her first child Rose, given the circumstances—is a mirror image of her mother. The coloring is different—her hair is red instead of pink, but her eyes are exactly like her mothers—but there is no mistaking the blood. Believe it or not, the red hair, pink eyes thing is really hot."

Gizmo felt the blood boil beneath his skin, but wisely kept his mouth shut. "They live here in Jump City. Cute little place on the beach. Real close to the Titans, but they don't keep in contact. Rose's is enrolled at the community collage, working on Computer Science. She's plans on getting a job with the police force. You know, breaking into government files, crap like that. She's a hacker, by the way, so we want to keep out of her line of view. That's about all I know of her, save for the fact that she was a brilliant student in high school, if not a bit lazy. She's got her father's speed, which she uses on the computer. She's thin, but she eats constantly. That's it, though. Just figured you want to know."

She smiled at him. "Jinx owns a gothic antique store. You know, skulls and crossbones and the random array of ceramic unicorns—which she makes by hand. Wally—which is his name, but the way—did his whole superhero thing. Made a good buck in foreign countries, too. Oh," she added when Gizmo was near his breaking point, "and they do fuck like bunnies."

She patted his hand when he broken the metal in two. "I only thought that you might want to have a go at the daughter, just for kicks. I mean, it would be a way to get back a Jinx for tossing you aside. Taking her daughter would really prove your point. You wouldn't even have to rape her. Just beat her around or whatever."

Gizmo said nothing, just watched the battle below, teeth clenched painfully. Rebecca gave up with a sigh. "The offer always stands, okay? We can do something about it."

"Mistress."

Rebecca turned away from Gizmo when her ancient butler appeared, nose high in the air as always. "Yes?"

"Ten warriors have survived. Eighty-six have been killed. The master Blade is bringing them up. I have not checked on the super villains yet, madam." He bowed, old bones creaking, and shuffled off to check on the statistics of the villains with the speed of a teenager.

Rebecca smiled as he disappeared. Williamson was a pain in the ass, but she loved him like her own father.

True to his word, Blade strutted up the stairs; ten weapon-wielders following close behind. He was covered in blood, yet his demeanor was as calm as always. "We have ten, as you instructed. No one was injured from my group."

Her eyes roamed over each person who survived the battle. She smiled at what she saw. "Good. Show them their rooms. Get them cleaned up. Then, we will celebrate your victory tonight."

Blade frowned. "I'm not a maid."

Rebecca had the insane urge to kiss his pouting mouth. "Okay, okay. I'll have Williamson do it. Until then, you can go clean your weapons." She shooed them off with a wave of her hand, glancing down at the field of dead bodies.

"We'll need to burn them. Get a butt load of bleach. Eh, I'll have Williamson's scrub the floor later. But for now, I want to see my survivors."

As if reading her mind, Williamson trotted back in, at least fifteen villains trailing after him. "Sorry, miss, but there were five that no one could seem to kill. You have fifteen instead of the designated ten."

Rebecca nodded, but before she had a chance to look over her new army, a strong, thick hand darted from the group and wrapped around her throat. No one had time to move before the man had her dangling over the rail.

Rebecca's eyes went wide with terror. "I want Grey," he growled, dark eyes demented. "She's is mine, do you understand? I have no qualms with killing you right now."

Pushing down the fear, Rebecca grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled her body up slightly to take the pressure off her windpipe. Gizmo was trying to pull the man from her, but not even his strength could deter this amazing man.

"Why would I tell you no?" She managed to choke out, scowling down at him as her arms shook at holding her body up.

The man raised an eyebrow at her, head titled slightly. He hadn't expected this woman to be mad instead of scared. "Dunno," he said with a shrug.

Rebecca gawked. He just went from crazy to indifferent in one moment. This man, she decided, was insane. Maybe more so than she was.

"You want Grey, okay. Sure. Wanna give me a reason? Well, on the other hand, wanna let me down so I can breathe?"

The man grinned wolfishly at her before jerking her to his body. Arousal sparked. The muscles against her were as self-induced, unlike Gizmo. This man worked for his strength. And he was also terrifying.

"She is my toy."

Rebecca glanced up at him, breathing ragged from the tight grip around her body. "Toy? As in…?"

He smirked. "You know without asking."

"Ah, a sex slave, I take it?"

"Is there any other form of toy?"

She grinned up at him, fingers digging into his flesh. "That's good to hear. Grey is yours. All I asks is that you let me know how things go. You know, maybe tape the good parts and send it to me? Ooh, speaking of, maybe you could send it to her parents as well…" She trailed off, eyebrows drawing together. "What's your name, by the way?"

He smiled hatefully. "AJ."

Rebecca felt a chill race up her spine when he jerked her face to his.

"I'm the son of Adonis."

XxX

I am so sorry this took so long. You see, my beta is having serious computer/Internet trouble, so I couldn't get the chapter back corrected, so what you just read was only betaed by me (which means there are tons of mistakes I missed, probably). If things go right, when she does finally send me the corrected chapter, I'll replace it with this one.

On a happier note, I decided that I would start The Book of Garion. I love this story, I really do, but not many people are interested in it, so I figured that I would have a complete Titan fic out in the open. I've already written 25 pages of it, and still have many more pages to write. I've also started the second chapter to it, as well as the next chapter for this, so I haven't been completely goofing off. Also, just so you know, I'm rewriting But I'm Only Human. I've managed to fix chapters 1-6, but I haven't had time to rewrite and edit the rest.

Anyway, since this week is my last year of Junior year (why does that sound funny?) I will have all summer to work on all I have planned, if my teacher doesn't get me a summer job. I'll try to update on regular intervals, but considering this is me, all I can promise you is_ trying_ to update on regular intervals.

So again, I am so sorry about all the mistakes, but I figured that since I've been fished with this for more than two weeks, I mine as well post it.

Wow…32 pages…not bad for someone like me.


	7. Chapter Six

This chapter has been betaed by RabulaTasa, who is awesome, by the way. Thank him for this chapter being tolderable and all out better than what I orginally wrote.

* * *

Sammy had grown up.

Christian kept his expression cool despite his stuttering heart as his eyes slid over the curved figure of the once tall, thin, lanky teenager he had last laid eyes on. This… this… _woman_ was not the blushing little girl who had trailed around after him like his shadow. Now, it was like looking at all those women who made him fidgety and nervous when they caught eye contact with him. This was the type of woman who made him tongue tied and all kinds of clumsy because they were just too physically perfect for most men to handle without having naughty thoughts about them- dammit, Sam as _not _supposed to look like this- but here she was, her amazing face flushed and gold eyes glassy with shock.

He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but it was remarkably hard, considering the shirt she was currently sporting hugged every possible curve of her torso. Her shorts offered him a view of what had to be mile long legs (he was a scientist to a T, but seriously, those _legs_). Her skin was still the soft tan he had remembered, but now there were scars marring her once smooth flesh. Those simple flaws in her skin made her seem human, instead of those sickening model who flashed around billboards and holographic mannequins.

Her ponytail draped over her left shoulder, the wet strands curling against the curve of her breast and over her waist, leaving damp spots on her white shirt. Samara's hands twisted nervously around her tank, flashing part of an abdomen that was toned with muscle and still slick from her shower. It was enough to have simple, straightforward Christian blushing. He brushed it aside, however, when she went red. "Hey Sammy," he said with a soft grin, dimples deepening when her breath caught ever so slightly.

Sam cursed inwardly at her inability to keep her unruffled façade up. It was only Christian, she snapped to herself. Sweet, clumsy, shy Christian who blushed around the opposite sex if they so much as glanced at him (at least, back when he had been a self-conscious nineteen year old virgin) shouldn't have made her feel like this. She was in love with him, yes, but it was no reason to drool over him.

_But oh my_ God_, he's built. _Hands still twisting around her shirt, Sam let her eyes roam over the simple collared shirt he worse. It was unbuttoned, flashing a lean throat and smooth tan skin that had an underlay of muscles that he had_ not_ had before. He was still as scrawny as always, but when he moved, muscles bunched against the material like a second skin.

Sam debated on her actions for a brief moment. One, she could stand here and look like an idiot blushing for no good reason, or two…Sam damned herself when she found her body moving on its own accord toward him. Before she could wrangle her instincts back in check, she was throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him to her as if her life depended on it.

He stiffened for a brief second before chuckling, hands gently circling her back. "It's good to see you again, Sammy."

"You jackass," she said softly, head turned slightly against him. His cologne was soft and seducing in a way that pulled at her senses in a way she hadn't experienced. Her heart stammered nervously in her chest at being this close to him. "You never called me."

He knew he should pull back, feeling the blush spread over his face at holding a girl for so long (shouldn't the blushing have subsided after he slept with his biomechanic lab partner?) but couldn't find the strength to pull from her. "Sorry, kiddo. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find time to do anything when you're studying how to work those damn mechasurgeons to make sure they do the right thing instead of giving someone an unwanted bypass surgery."

She was the one to pull back now, though her arms were still loose around his neck. Her gold eyes searched his as she asked, "Why are you back?"

He smiled, shoulders lifting in a nonchalant shrug. "I wanted to come back home. I've missed out on a lot of things and I think it's time I catch up."

Grey, who had been fluttering around them waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, giggled. Sam stiffened immediately, head twisting to pin the small witch with a deathly glare at whatever she had planned. Grey brushed her off with a grin. "Well, you haven't missed much with Sam- that much I can assure you."

He cocked an eyebrow as Sam turned an interesting shade of pink. He glanced down at her with a quirk of his lips. "Really now?"

"Yep. She's still the same old Sammy who doesn't know how to have fun for the life of her. You know, she hasn't even gone on her first date yet-"

"Back off, Grey," Sam said in a tone that had even Raven flinching at the painful threat lingering inside the icy slide of words.

But Grey, being as oblivious as her father was when danger was staring her straight into her face, continued. "You're the only boy she's kissed, you know. She's been too busy working on getting equal footing with Kira's fighting abilities to even think about it. That and she's trying to keep her GPA at 4.0."

By this time, Sam had ripped away from Christian, eyes like molten gold. From behind him, he heard Chase murmur, "Scary," and knew his twin nodded in agreement.

Robin's hands fluttered helplessly as Grey continued her Cheshire smile, hands linked behind her back innocently. "Now, now, Sam, let's remain calm. Grey was merely stating that you're more interested in your future than most people, though her wording did have some hidden implications-" When Sam's eyes narrowed into slits, Robin panicked and added hastily, "But I'm sure she wasn't meaning anything by it. She was merely stating a fact, right, Grey? Grey?" His eyes slid carefully to Raven's daughter, mouth set in a tight smile. "Right, Grey?" He hissed. He really didn't feel like mopping up blood at the moment. He had too much to clean up at his dojo to worry about that.

"Whatever suits you," she chirped, sliding Christian a sly glance that promised her words _did_ have a hidden meaning behind them. He didn't have time to use his amazing mind to decipher it, however, for Lucan trotted into the room, a tiny black book clutched in his hands.

"Hey, Christian, ya wanna read what she has to say about you?"

Christian opened his mouth to answer, though he wasn't at all sure what it would be, but Sam had reached her boiling point. He jumped when she growled low in her throat. "That's it, you damn brat. I am going to _kill_ you!" Christian had to question her heritage at the full-blooded demonic hiss that escaped from her throat. She wasn't related to Raven, was she?

Lucan yelped and tossed the book at her before he leapt behind his frowning mother, body slamming against the ground as he ducked for cover. Starfire heaved a sigh at her youngest child's antics.

Sam snatched the book out of the air with a scowl. "I am scanning this into my computer so you can't get into it, you little freak. And I will make sure you see something you really don't want to. Maybe a hologram of me ripping you apart limb from limb until there is nothing left of you but a bloody stump."

Lucan latched onto Starfire's leg, eyes terrified. "Okay! Okay! No more! I swear it! I was just playin', you know, 'cause you don't play with me anymore. You're always training or somethin', and Dahlia's always playin' with her knifes and stuff, and if I bother her she threatens to disembowel me or something like that. Shia's always with some girl, Ada's with Cam, and I can't keep wasting all of Kira's time 'cause she's the only who'll play with me. Dad's got his dojo, Mom's got her work, and I don't have a twin, so I get lonely sometimes." Lucan pouted. "And I don't like having to play with Mac 'cause she hits all the time."

Robin rolled his eyes at the name of Harley's seven year old daughter before they softened. Gently, he knelt down so he was eye to eye with his son. Luc turned his gold eyes away with a stubborn frown, though loneliness danced within the pale irises. "Luc, you know you can come to me anytime you want. I can leave the dojo anytime _I_ want. I'd be happy to do whatever you want to play, kiddo."

Lucan slid his matching eyes to Sam, who studied him with a frown. She couldn't understand why she had never seen her own brother's lonesomeness. "I want Sam, though."

Sam traced her fingers around the edge of her book, her eyebrows drawn together slightly. "Why?" For the life of her, she couldn't understand why her baby brother would want her to be the one to entertain him. She was a bitch to him all the time. The only time she wasn't saying something sarcastic, she was poking him or catching him under her arm to give him noogies. Why would he want _her_ attention?

"'Cause you're _cool_. All my friends say that they like you best 'cause you're strong and pretty and not as scary as Dahlia is or as shy and freakishly powerful as Kira is. They say that you're like, the perfect combo of them and that you're just awesome and that they're jealous that you're my sister 'cause I get to see you in action all the time and that's why they want to come over all the time-"

"Aww, you have mini admirers, Sammy!" Grey cooed, earning a nasty glare from Sam.

"And that's the third time today someone has insulted me," Dahlia mused monotonously as Kira frowned at having her strength called freakish.

Lucan had never stopped his tirade, however, so when everyone slid back into listening to him, he was saying, "- and that you get all mad when I annoy you and call me names and it makes me feel good 'cause you're finally paying attention to me so it's worth stealing all your stuff and getting yelled at cause then at least you're noticing me and-"

"That's a lot of ands," Shia said as he scratched the back of his head and Lucan took a deep, gulping breath.

"I see where he takes after his mother," Raven said dryly as Lucan started to ramble on again, hands constantly moving. Beast Boy nodded as Malachi stared at the boy as if he had lost his mind. The lazy shape shifter couldn't remember ever hearing someone talk that long and that fast while having so many "ands" connecting the sentences. Was that even grammatically legal?

Sam sighed softly. "Lucan."

But the boy was still on a roll, enthusiastically counting off all the time she had done something to impress him with his fingers. He was already up to thirty-three.

"Lucan."

Shia smothered a chuckle with his hand as Sam's eyebrow twitched. "Damnit, Lucan, shut up and get your scrawny ass over here!"

Luc blinked up at her slowly. "Huh?"

Hands on hips and head cocked, Sam glared at him. "Get up. We're playing dodge ball and I'm going to need you to lay out the weapons and mop up after the boys after we pound them into the ground. Think you can handle that?"

He looked up at her as if she had bestowed him with a wonderful gift. Adara was always the one who set the balls out on the court, so having his sister say it was his job was like her telling him that she loved him. In his young mind, it was just about the same thing. Lucan pumped his fist into the air as all blood drained from the males' faces. "Yes! I'll go get the balls!" Then he was off, darting out of the room like a bullet.

Chase dipped a finger into his collar when the air seemed to clog in his throat. "Dodge ball," he croaked, exchanged terrified glances with his twin brother. "Seriously?"

Dante was slowly starting to inch his way toward the door, where he planned on making a hasty exit, but Dahlia slid out her foot, catching the back of his ankle. He yelped as he tumbled backwards, but Kira reached out and grabbed him by the shirtfront. His back was left nearly parallel with the floor, his shirt rising high on his stomach so it offered a healthy view of a toned stomach. She blushed hotly, but Dante was too frightened to notice.

"I, um, well, you see, I can't play, 'cause, um, I, uh, well, that is-"

"Shut up and be a man, Dante," Dahlia snapped. "I think you can take a little beating with a cushioned ball, can't you?"

"No! You freaking Amazons kill us every damned time! How the hell can we defend ourselves when we're too busy diving out of the way? We're young, but goddammit, we're not invincible!"

Dahlia crouched down to eyelevel with him, smirk dancing in her eyes. "Don't feel bad, Dante. Dad and Uncle B are playing, too. And don't forget Shia."

As Dahlia and Kiranne walked away from them, Dante being dragged reluctantly behind a blushing Kira and Shia giving the smaller boy a pep talk, Beast Boy and Robin managed a heavy gulp. And as their wives grinned and winked, both adults sighed.

"Well, shit."

* * *

Christian wasn't stupid. 

He had talked with Shia enough to know those who went up against the Grayson woman did not come back in one piece. They walked around with bruises, bloody noses or mouths, and more times than no, jarred bones from diving out of the way of a ninety mile per hour ball thrown by one of the girls.

They were lined up on the white strip of tape Robin had laid down for their game. Thankfully, Robin had been smart enough to have Cyborg lay down a pad for the entire first story room conjoined to the mile wide gym, but Christian still felt his entire body break out in a cold sweat as he watched the girls stretch out their muscles.

Beside him, his father scowled. "Damnit, why didn't you tell me we were up against this when you called all of us over?"

Christian rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Dahlia threatened to cut off a very important part of our anatomy if we didn't call everyone and tell then to come over here. Mom seems happy, though."

Wyatt glared at his wife, who merely waved and blew him a kiss that reeked of smugness. "Of course she is. She's on the team that's actually allowed to hit their opponents."

"I'm going to kick yourasses, Chase, Cameron," Alexander Twain snapped, black eyes fired up and ready to burn anything he could get his gaze on into a smoldering crisp. "I'm too freaking old to be playing dodge ball with a group of hormonal teenagers."

His twin sons exchanged looks before both setting their features into identical smirks. "Yes, but it's fun to see Mom kick your ass," Cameron said, shyness evaporating since he wasn't surrounded by women.

"Yes, but why am I here?" Connor Twain glanced at Sam with a cringe. She smiled innocently at him, making his blood run cold. "I have done nothing to merit this punishment. Sam is still peeved at me for telling her that her driving skills stink and she'll probably keep that in mind while she aims for me. Dad? Yeah, he's probably earned a few bruises from Mom, but me? No, I don't think I deserve this." He tossed his blonde hair out of his eyes, which promptly fell right back to its original place.

Chase slapped his older brother on the back. "Think of it this way," he said as his eyes skimmed over Dahlia's figure. She was currently sitting on the floor; legs spread wide and torso bent forward so it touched the ground, long arms reaching past her slim feet. "At least it's the weekend. The bruises will be green and nasty instead of blue, black and painful. That, and they're _usually _nice enough to not aim for the face. Oh," he added when Connor glared at him, "and watch your pride and joy. Dahlia tends to aim low."

Connor seemed to fold into himself as Ethan frowned, arms folded over his chest. "I have a speech to make on Monday," he said with a sigh. "And I'm going to be in serious pain, aren't I?"

Malachi Logan cracked open an eye to look at Ethan. He was sprawled out on the ground in all manners of directions, his older brother, Dante, using his chest as a pillow as he caught up on a quick nap. He was going to need it when the game started. "Yep. They don't believe in survivors. Even the human's are nasty."

Dante snorted, having caught his near mini-twin's last comment. "Women are nasty," he corrected. "They love to beat the hell out of us, especially when they have a reason to do so. Damn Sam, giving them a reason to. Roxanne is hanging out with Dahlia too much. She's teaching her the ropes of being a serious bitch."

Nathaniel Hallowell turned his attention away from his older brother at the sound of his crush's name. Christian rolled his eyes, gently ruffling his baby brother's hair. "What?" Nate asked, gray eyes jumping over their faces.

Bastian sighed. "We're talking about the Matthews girls and the rest of the army."

"Ah," he said, nodding his head as he stepped over Dante and Malachi, both snoozing lightly. "Roxanne's temper, I take it?"

"We were getting there," Sebastian said, watching with narrowed eyes as Ryanne laughed at something his mother said. Harley pointed in his direction, mouth moving with a smirk. From where he stood, he could see Ryanne blush before turning toward his mother with a muffled laugh. "Damn women," he grumbled, arms crossing over his muscled chest. "Always gossiping."

Nathanial nodded nonchalantly. "I think if we're to get out of this alive, we need to watch for Melody. That girl can come up with a battle formation in less than ten seconds. If she stays in, we're doomed. She gets her smarts from Hannah, I think."

Dante grunted when he felt his pillow's heart ram against his ribs at the name of Hannah's youngest girl. Damn. Well, it seemed his little brother had a crush. Dante decided he would use it against him later, but now, he had to gather up all the energy he could possibly muster if he wanted to be able to dodge all those damn balls.

"You do realize they know that we'll go straight after her, don't you?" Christian said, mind already turning the possibilities around in his head. "They know that she's their strategist, so they'll keep her protected. Probably Dahlia or Kira, for they have the best hand eye coordination, which means that they'll be able to catch any ball that comes their way no matter the speed. They'll have Sam, Starfire, and Grey on the frontlines. Grey, because she's so tiny she can dodge anything she wants, Sam for her strength, Starfire for her experience with war tactics. Roxanne and Talon will be behind them, because although they have no otherworldly powers, they're hardheaded, stubborn girls who don't take defeat easily. Ryanne, Cleo and Krista will be behind them, because their aim is not as good, but their strength is scary. And then we have our guards, who will defend their strategist until the end. Raven will be hovering in a corner, knowing that no one will think to hit her, so when the time comes, she'll attack, and no one will know when she does. Sophie, well, she won't do anything unless someone tries to hit her, which you know her brother's will. Mac will have her eye on Lucan-" here, said boy flinched, "- so she'll keep her eyes open. We won't know when she attacks either, for she lives by the moment, not by strategies. We'll have Harley, Hannah, and Mallory there to keep up a defense against any balls that might miss someone on the front lines. Then we have Kira and Dahlia. They will protect Melody, but that doesn't mean they won't strike out against us. They are the ones we really have to worry about."

His team goggled at him, causing the genius to blush scarlet. "What?" He asked sheepishly, fingers lifting to idly scratch at his scar. "What'd I do?"

Shia blinked at him. "How do you know all that? You just got back from college, and the last time you were here, you were nineteen." His eyebrows drew together. "I'm pretty sure I didn't tell you that much about the girls, either. Did I?" When he glanced down at Dante for conformation, the lazy teen merely shrugged.

"No, you didn't. I just remember it from the last time I was here…though I clearly remember sitting on the sidelines, not being on the frontlines."

"You remember that far back? Every little detail?" Malachi made a low sound in the back of his throat. "That seems way too annoying for me. I can barely remember what I did this morning much less two years ago."

Robin toed his ribs with a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "That's because you didn't do anything this morning. You're going to end up sleeping your life away, oh-clone-of-Beast-Boy."

Malachi grinned unabashedly as Luc trotted down the halfway mark, setting down numerous neon balls, all varying in size and shape. It was the little ones that hurt the most, so Sebastian made sure to keep an eye on whoever managed to grab that one.

"Damn," Twain muttered. "Are you really going to hit an old man?" He called out to the woman already shifting into their formation. It was just as Christian had predicted, but they knew that even knowing their strategy was useless when up against them.

"You know, I think there was actually a day and time where women weren't superior to men," Christian mused as Twain's wife answered with a, "Chickenshit old man! I'm going to kick your ass!" It was followed by a round of approving cheers from the girls.

The elders sighed. "Yes…yes, there was a day," Beast Boy murmured. "But that was just a distant dream. It almost died the moment Samara was born. Thank God for Shiamar. If he hadn't of been born, the world would be overrun with women."

The younger generation mumbled amongst themselves, all knowing that her birth had heralded the beginning of the end. "We might have had a chance had Kira not been born and joined forces with Sam," Chase muttered as they reluctantly lined up on the white line once again. "I love the girl, I really do, but I always feel so useless when she darts into battle without a backwards glance. And this is coming from a human. You," he said, gesturing at the superheroes with a jerk of his chin, "must feel worse than me. I mean- come on! The last time I heard about a woman not kicking ass in this day and time is those old romance novels that my mom stashes under the floorboards with her guns."

Shia shrugged nonchalantly, plowing his long fingers through his hair and completely ignoring the fact that his friends completely overlooked his strength. He was used to it, however, for he didn't really like to flaunt his power. "I can take Kira on easily, but Sam likes to see me lose, so she joins forces with her. I don't think I've ever gotten a chance to fight her one-on-one without Sam cheating. Now, when Mom joined me, I did beat them. Without cheating, might I add."

Twain snickered as he ignored Shia's comment completley. "Who'da thunk that that little slip of a girl could be so strong? She looks and acts so innocent and shy when she's living a normal life, but stick her in a situation where she or someone else is in danger and damn the girl kicks ass. But I tell you, I would so pay to see Shia and Kira go against each other. That would be one hell of a fight. Shia's much stronger physically, but Kira actually thinks her fights through. Why don't you do that, Shiamar? Next time you spar, pair off with Kira. We'll keep Sam away. It'll be the perfect battle of brain against brawn."

Dante nodded as he eyed Shia's towering- and intimidating- form. "That would be cool. Besides, it's been awhile since I've seen Shia fight. He might be getting a bit rusty."

Shia glared weakly at Beast Boy's oldest son. "All right, then. Next time we spar, I get Kiranne. I really need to get back into hand-to-hand combat. I'm usually with Mom to sharpen up my Tameranian skills, so it'll be a nice change."

Christian blinked when his father let out a random and muttered curse. "You talk about having your kids beat you in strength, but have them beat you in mind too." Wyatt proceeded to glare at his son, who flashing him a wide, almost cocky grin.

Robin lifted a reluctant hand. "Sam and Shia have me beat. But I can't complain, though. All my children are half alien, after all."

Beast Boy sighed. "If Dante wasn't so lazy and Grey not so raw about her height, they'd beat me out… then again, I never had much of a mind to begin with."

Ethan plopped his hands on his hips. "Ha! They only have me beaten in strength, but that's only because I'm mayor. I don't have time to work on my body."

Nate rolled his eyes. "You've lost your mind, Uncle E. Besides, your children are mostly girls and they happen to be stronger than you?"

Ethan deflated. "Maybe…" He crossed his arms over his chest. "But Roxanne bites," he pouted.

Nate grinned widely, but all amusement died when Sam stepped up, hands on slim hips. Every male heart in the room seemed to drop into their stomachs. "Dammit, it's almost time." Robin fidgeted. "Too bad Cyborg had to work on Sam's truck. We really could have used him."

"At least Bumblebee's not here. That's one less woman we have to worry about." Sebastian angled his body so half was hidden behind his father. Colt sputtered. "You are not using me as a shield!" Father and son proceeded to fight over who was going to shield whom when Sam leaned down to pick up a ball. On instinct, every male lined up to fight hit the ground, save Shia. He blinked down at them before sighing heavily. "Cowards."

Wyatt poked his head up, annoyance skittering across his features. "You wouldn't be talking so big if you weren't a Tameranian yourself and didn't stand at six feet seven with a body that is nothing but cushioned muscle. In case you've forgotten, we're human. You know, weak, fragile humans who can't lift a few tons of crap using one hand. When they pop you with a ball, it's like getting thumped. You don't even flinch. When _we_ get popped with a ball, it's like getting hit by a freaking freight train. So shut up and let us cower."

Sam grinned wolfishly as they peeked out from under their arms, Shia rolling his eyes behind them. "Just seeing if you were on your toes."

She let the ball roll back to its position. "Are you really that scared of us?" Kira asked, her voice soft and almost inaudible.

"Yes!" They chorused from the ground, sending Lucan into a fit of giggles. He had wisely stayed behind the grownups to use them as his barrier in case someone was to let a ball fly. He wasn't stupid, after all.

Dahlia snorted. "This is too easy. Shouldn't it take away from all the fun? I mean, it's sad that Shia is the only one strong enough to take us all on. This just isn't fair."

"And he's too damned nice to even throw hard!" shouted Wyatt with a glare in the younger boy's direction. Shia just rolled his eyes, grinning sheepishly.

The women huddled, discussing the idea for so long that the boys were half ready to tell them to "make up their minds already" when Dahlia laughed.

"Who the hell am I kidding? Since when have we ever played fair?"

Christian managed to glance up at Sam, and for a moment, he wondered when the hell she managed to grow horns in the short time he's seen her. Or had they always been there? And was that a forked tail he was seeing?

"Okay, quick refresh," Christian said as they scrambled up. They could only let the women taunt them for so long. "We have seventeen men with us since the children can't play. They have sixteen. We have a slight advantage against them in numbers."

Beast Boy held up a finger. "Ah, but your wrong. You see, they have us beat by a good thousand."

"Huh?" Christian glanced at the small group of girls with confusion written all over his attractive face.

"He's right," Robin muttered. "You see, Dahlia has at least the strength of twenty men. Sam, maybe fifty. Kira…well, that's where the thousand comes in. So, in other words, we're screwed."

"Actually, we're not screwed." Heads swiveled toward Christian as he gnawed on his bottom lip. "You all seem to forget we have Shia on our team. In muscle, he's stronger than Kira. Well, actually, he's just all around more of a warrior than she is."

Shia smiled. "I can hit just as hard as they can," he said, gesturing toward the women with a slightly jerk of his head. "Dante, Malachi, you have excellent hand eye coordination, what with your animal blood. If you work up enough energy, you can pop Sam or Mom when they don't expect it. The rest of you need to buck up. We _can_ win this."

Twain snorted. "Nice speech, but the odds are still against us. We have one Tameranian, two lazy-ass Logan's, and a group of pushover men who are scared of a bunch of old woman and teenage girls. They have a full blooded alien, three spawns of said alien, a half demon, her brat, and a group of girls who find confidence in being surrounded by superhero women. That, and no matter how strong Shia is, there is a whole lot to aim for."

Shia frowned at the older man poked his stomach and craned his head back to peer at the young boy. "That is nothing but muscle and he's nearly seven feet tall. It is not easy for a man who could knock you out by thumping your forehead to move out of the way without bumping into one of us. Can you really see all this bulk diving out of the way of a 90 mile per hour ball? I think not, my dear losers. So, let's pray that they're in a joyful mood. And Chase? I promise that will make your funeral service nice, 'cause you ain't getting out of this in one piece, gauging from Dahlia's sinister grin."

Cameron sighed while his bother cursed a blue streak, glancing at his girlfriend with a pout. His father did have a point. The odds were against them when it came to strength. Shia, god bless him, was just too damn tall to be able to dive out of the way of flying balls. Those balls were almost too fast for any of them, Shia included, to catch. Would he ever be able to see her again? Ada caught his gaze and moved toward him from the sidelines. She was a pacifist to a T, so there was no way she could participate in the brawl.

"Aww," she cooed, reaching up to brush her mouth against his. "I'll take care of you, baby." She winked. "You can think about that." Cameron smiled down at her before kissing the soft skin between her brows.

"Oi! No fraternizing with the enemy!" Dahlia snapped, and somehow managed to catch Chase's eyes with a glare despite all the obstacles in her way.

Adara winked at him again. "Sorry, sweetheart," she said as she patted the skin above her heart, "But my heart is with the girls." She turned to her father and brother with a grin. "Good luck, boys!"

She trotted away with a cocky wave before taking to the skies and hovering above the arena. She was officially the referee. She folded her legs under her as she glanced down at the battlefield not yet stained with blood.

"Are you aware of the rules?" She asked in a no no-nonsense voice, eyes as hard as she could make them. The girls' smirks were her answer as was the chorus of groans. The younger children cheered for their teams from the sidelines, for they were too young to participate in such a violet game.

Ada was seconds away from letting out a sharp whistle to begin the game when Shia called out, "Wait!"

Ada paused in taking a deep breath. "What?"

"We have a proposition, of sorts," he muttered. "Christian's idea." Shia glanced back at Christian with a smirk.

Said genius responded with a sharp, "Hey!" and proceeded to hide behind his father who tried to turn back to whack him away.

"What it is?" Ada asked, biting back a snicker when Christian flitted around his father, successfully keeping his father slapping at thin air.

"The old people sit out."

Twain gave a loud, "Yes!" while the women suddenly seemed to vibrate with anger. "Who're you calling old, you brat?" Harley snapped, hands on tiny hips. "I know you ain't talking about me. I have enough energy to beat you into the ground, height difference or not."

Shia raised a brow at the tiny woman. "Twain says that you old people can't take playing with the younger ones. Twain called you old. Christian said it would be wise to let you sit out so you can cheer for your daughters/sons/ and watch us look like fishes out of water. That, and since the children- who are marginally weaker- get to sit out, it's only fair that you do, too." In all actuality, Christian's idea did give them more hope. If they somehow managed to get the full blooded alien and the sneaky half demon off the court, there was a chance that their strengths could almost balance each other out.

"Fishes out of water, huh?" Katelynn Twain pressed a finger against her mouth. "I would love to see you old men get your asses handed to you, but seeing Connor and my twins flopping around sounds mighty interesting."

Her sons glared at her as she herded the older generation to the sidelines. Robin and co looked like they had been granted immortality as they plopped down, leaving the teams evenly matched, both sides having eleven competitors.

Something sick and hot danced in Christian's stomach as Ada threw them a pitying glance before slipping her referee mask on. "Alright, now that we have that settled, is everyone aware of the rules? There is only one game and no more. If you are hit with a ball, you are instantly out. If the opposing person catches your ball, not only are you out, but a person on their sidelines is allowed a free ticket into the game. You cannot cross the halfway mark, and you cannot extend past the white borders. If you do, the opposing team gets a free hit. You can not hold a ball any longer than twenty seconds; else you will be forced to stand on the white line and are the target for the opposing team. You can dodge the ball however you please, but Dante, you cannot lay on the floor the entire time so you don't get hit. Also, you are forbidden from using your powers. Strength cannot be helped, but no barriers or shifting, understood? Does everyone understand these guidelines? If there is blood drawn, then…well, all I can offer is my sincerest apology. Winning team will be awarded exemption from their chores for the week. Losing team will take all duties from the wining team."

"Ha! I don't live here so I don't have to do it." Chase was so pleased with himself that he couldn't help but grin from ear to ear.

Ada pursed her lips and glanced at Sam. She shrugged slightly. "We'll just force him to become Dahlia's slave if he loses."

His grin fell. "Aww, dude, that's so wrong."

Dahlia looked pleased with this new turn of events and sent him a smile that had his skin crawling. Ada giggled slightly. "Best keep your mouth shut, Chase," she chirped happily. "Now, let's get this started, shall we?"

* * *

After thirty minutes of flying balls, muffled yelps, and bushels of bruises, only two opponents were left. Shia and Samara faced off now, balls spilt equally between them. Kiranne eased to the sidelines after her brother managed to nail her and Grey in one throw. She received the worst of the blow, but Grey was currently fuming next to an amused Raven. Kira winced as she rolled her shoulders, the bruise blooming on her upper arm firing up in annoyance. She sat down beside Dahlia (she had gotten out after knocking Chase off his feet –quite literally- and having his brother retaliate while she gloated at her victory, so Ada was flitting around her boy incase her sister decided it was time for revenge) and tried her best not to giggle at how bad of a sore loser her sister was.

She caught Shia's gaze, smiling when he winked in apology. "Sorry, Sweets. I was aiming for Grey, not you."

Said girl gave an angry snort. "That was a cheap shot. Had Kira not moved, that would have-"

"Sailed right over your head, Midget. You aren't that tall."

As Raven and Starfire pinned Grey to the ground to keep her from pouncing the slightly older boy, Sam grinned good naturedly at her brother. "It's nice to be up against you for a change. Usually, you and Kira are the last one's still standing."

"I would have gotten you, but after that last low blow Grey tried to get me with, I couldn't just let her get away with it."

"So you took out Kira instead?"

Shia picked up a small, blue ball and tossed it in the air. It was always like this with his twin. They always had to bicker before they fought. With Kira, it was merely gauging opponents movements in search of an opening. Kira usually won that, for Shia didn't have much patience and always threw without really thinking things over. With Sam, however, it was all in the words.

"Since Grey is so small-"

"Take that back, you jackass!" Grey squeaked indignantly.

"- I figured that Kira would be my best bet. And who are we to talk? If I'm not mistaken, you took Cameron and Christian out in less than two seconds after Dahlia took one to the thigh."

Sam glanced at Christian from the corner of her eyes. He scooted away, pout finding refuge on his mouth. "I had to get him back for asking you if I had a tail."

Shia laughed heartily. "You and your hearing." He watched as his twin bent down to retrieve a ball. She chose one of the same size, mimicking his movements by tossing it up nonchalantly.

"So how do we end this?" She asked, tone mild as her eyes scanned his stance in search of any offensive moments.

"With the men winning and you doing my laundry all week."

His smile was slow and smug when his sister went scarlet with rage. "There is no way I'm cleaning any of your crap, Shiamar! You are going to be the one folding my clothes and babysitting the younger kids when Mom and Dad want some alone time."

"You know, I think you would do well as a housewife. What do you think, boys? I can just see Sam puttering around a house, baby on her hip while she vacuums the rug, or fixes her man's meal or does his laundry."

"Sexist pig," she snarled, and as predicted, reared back and let a ball fly. He jerked to the side, flinching when the ball cracked against the wall hard enough to send plaster raining down to the mat.

He smirked at his team, for Christian and he had devised a plan before the genius had been sent to the sidelines. Sam was like an iPod set on repeat. She always played the same tune after someone pressed the right button.

"You know Shia, I wouldn't mind toting around your kid while doing your laundry," Grey purred from the sidelines.

Shia jerked, head swiveling toward her in shock as she batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. He felt his mind short circuit as images of Grey cooing to a green-eyed baby fled past his eyes.

"No! Damnit, Shia, don't-"

The air whooshed from his lungs as Sam's ball slammed into his abdomen, the unsuspecting force lifting his feet off the ground so his back crashed against the floor. He could only lay there, shocked, as Sam leaned over him with a wicked grin spreading across her mouth.

"-let yourself get distracted," Christian finished lamely as his team moaned their disappointment.

"So, big brother, how does it feel to have your plan backfire?" Sam nearly cooed as she pinned Christian with a horribly smug smile.

He managed a weak glare as Sam offered her hand to him. "Cheater," he muttered. "How long did you have that planned?"

Sam weaved an arm around his waist as he gained his footing, wincing as pain shot up his chest. "Shiamar, sweetheart, I think there's something you should know." He grunted as Grey slapped him heartily on the butt with a giggle before skipping off to poke at her younger brothers'. "My weakness, dear brother, is also my strength."

He sighed moodily as the victim's of the dodgeball game trudged to the infirmary to take away the heat of the bruises. "So," she chirped happily when she had him sitting down on a cot, "when should I drop my laundry off, maid of mine?"

* * *

Christian decided that he was stupid.

He sat in the infirmary, naked from the waist up as the winning team watched the parents scurry around to offer ice packs. They snickered- Kira and Ryanne frowned- as Robin tallied the wounds. As usual, the women walked away with minor injuries- bruises that you could hardly noticed, since Shia never really used much of his power behind his throws – while the men, well…

"Ouch," Robin murmured when he made his way to Christian with a dripping blue bag in hand. "That looks painful." He gently pressed the ice to Christian's bruised collarbone, flinching when Christian let out a pained hiss between his teeth.

"It is. Believe me." Why he was stupid enough to let himself be a target for the devil once called Samara was beyond him. Wasn't he supposed to be a genius? His IQ was way above two hundred, he could remember information word for word after a mere glance, he was able to figure out a problem almost without ever being taught the solution, and yet here he was, his collarbone a nasty painting of a multicolored bruise, all because he happened to be friends with ball-happy women.

He really was stupid.

"Oh, it can't be that bad." His body stiffened at the soft timber of Samara's voice. She weaved her way between the patients to stand before him, face slightly flushed as her gold eyes trailed over his torso. He had the insane urge to fold up into himself, never being one who liked being appraised- hopefully that was what she was doing- so openly. Robin decided he was no longer needed, so he bustled over to Chase, who was being mercilessly tortured by Dahlia. She had managed to hit his hip once again, so at the moment, he was nearly writhing in pain. Christian flinched slightly.

"You're a nasty player," he pouted when she pulled back the ice to see the damage she had caused. "Plotting like that is not very ladylike."

She raised her eyes to his as she gently prodded the sore skin around the bruise. "I know," she said with a slight smirk, replacing the ice pack and holding it to him. She made no move to leave, so he made no move to shoo her away. He did however let his eyes roam over her in search for that tail he had seen earlier…

He stopped his search, however, when Dante let loose a yelp. "Damnit, Kiranne, why am I always your bloody target?" He bellowed as she pressed an ice pack to his ribs. "You nearly cracked them this time!"

She went red, teeth sinking painfully into her lower lip. "I-I'm s-sorry."

He scowled down at her. "Yeah, well, now you have to play doctor for as long as I have this damn bruise as consolation for all the pain you've caused me. It's only fair." He was smirking now, arms folded over his lean chest. Dante, like Christian, was not built like Shia was. Shia was pure muscle and all strength, whereas Dante was merely lithe. There was muscle there, beneath the pale skin, but his chest and stomach were merely flat with the play of muscle beneath the skin. Shia was ridged with muscle that was so prominent that they shifted with each breath he took. It was enough to have Christian a bit jealous, for his chest was just…there. When he glanced down, he could see the slight padding of muscle across his chest, the hard line of abs, but it was like looking down at a scrawny teenager's body when compared to Shia.

He pouted as he poked at his abs with a long finger. Sam glanced down at his action, flushed slightly, then managed a smirk. "Problem, Doctor?"

He glanced up at her, blood pooling in his cheeks when he realized she was watching his childlike antics. "Umm…no. Not at all."

She glanced down at his stomach with a raised eyebrow. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Christian," she said, her smile widening when he went crimson. "You're looking at Shia, right?"

He managed to look insulted. "I'm not gay!"

Sam's eyebrow rose slightly. "I wasn't insinuating that, Christian. I was just pointing out that most guys can't look at Shia shirtless without getting just a bit self-conscious."

He glanced down at her hand, still pressing the ice against his now numb bruise. Tears of water skimmed down his chest as he muttered, "Well, I am human, you know."

She smiled at him. "Exactly. Shia's not, so there's no reason to be jealous of him. Besides," she said softly, eyes dropping down to his chest again. "You're pretty built yourself. Most human men don't take the time to look like you do, especially when they're one their way to becoming a doctor."

He went scarlet now, eyes lowering to stare at anything but her. He settled on watching Malachi drag himself to his brother and throw himself on the bed, eyes imploring as Kiranne glanced up at him. "Aww, why does my brother get all the attention? I hurt too, you know."

Christian chuckled when Kira went red before laughing softly. Malachi beamed when she took her ice pack from Dante, who looked like he was well on his way to throwing a tantrum, to press it against Malachi's shoulder. It bloomed with a midnight bruise that was a stark contrast to his gray skin, but it was nothing compared to the nasty whelp across Dante's ribs.

"Hey! Go find your own doctor, you lazy little brat! She's taken!" Dante reached over to grab Kira's arm and pull her back toward him, ignorant of the way her face went red. "She nailed me with that damn ball, so now she has to fix it."

Malachi scowled. "She doesn't want to doctor a wimp like you, anyway. I'm much better."

Dante's eyebrow twitched. "You little- she's mine, so back off."

"Wanna fight for her?" Malachi pinned him with a smirk, violet eyes dancing with mirth. It was rare for him to show any sort of emotion, but for some reason, he was feeling a bit playful. Besides, his brother always managed to get twisted up when it came to Kiranne. He let his eyes slid to her, mouth slipping into a wide grin, and knew exactly why his brother was so different around her.

"Fight? What the hell? Have you lost your mind?" Dante gawked at his almost identical younger brother. "I'd kick your ass before you could even think to take a swing."

Malachi's dark brows rose. "Oh? Wanna put that theory to the test?"

Dante's grin was feral as he said, "Oh yeah. You're going down, brat."

Before they could so much as lift their hands to pummel each other, Kira threw herself forward. "Wait!"

Both brothers' were currently sandwiching her, causing all three teens to flush. "Umm, c-can't I just d-doctor both o-of you?"

Dante scowled as he reached over her to cuff his hand across the side of Malachi's head. "No. You nailed me, so you fix me. End of discussion. Besides," he added when he glanced over at the hovering Melody near them, "Melody isn't busy. She can 'doctor' you." He turned to the blonde girl with a cocky grin. "Right, Melody?"

The youngest Matthews girl flushed and ducked her head so her golden hair curtained her face. "Umm…if he…wants me to."

Dante nearly burst at the seams when his baby brother flushed pink before glancing down at the white sheets with a slight shrug. He winced as the movement pulled at his shoulder. "Hn."

"Translation: he would love for you to be his doctor, Melody." Hannah's daughter blushed again when Kira handed her an extra ice pack and she pressed it hesitantly against Malachi's wounded shoulder.

Kiranne and Dante exchanged amused looks when Melody tried to start up a conversation with the lazy boy. Dante took notice that it was the first time Kira did not blush when making eye contact with him. And that, for some reason, caused him to smile.

"Um…you played well, Malachi."

Grey noted that her baby was blushing and couldn't help but ease closer to the shy teenagers, dragging Shia along with her by the ear. She was, after all, still paying him back for stealing that kiss earlier.

"Thanks," he muttered, his eyes refusing to meet hers. "It would have been better had my brother not used me as a shield." He turned to glare at his older brother, but Dante merely beamed at him. Malachi cringed. His brother was scary when he smiled like that.

"Hmm…but until then, you were…really good. You did get me out, after all." He went red as she ducked her head slightly, concentrating on keeping the ice pack against the bruise. Ethan flitted behind them, mouth set into a straight line. He wasn't fond of the fact that his baby girl was currently conversing with a boy, even if it was Beast Boy's son. Hannah rolled her eyes and jerked him back to her so he didn't do something stupid.

"Hn." His hands twisted in his lap as he worked up the courage to glance up at her. He felt himself freeze when she looked up shyly at the same moment and found himself mere inches away.

Grey merely leapt with joy as the both jerked away with a bright blush, tugging on Shia's ear until he yelped. "Aww, that was so cute!"

Dahlia rolled her eyes at the commotion as she smacked Chase's hand away from the ice pack, only to use her own hand to keep it there. "Dude, that's freaking cold!" He snapped, meeting her scowl head on.

"Ice has that trait," she retorted monotonously. "Go figure."

He laid his hand over hers, sending her a withering glare when she lifted her eyes to his. "It's dripping," he snarled. "And it's killing me."

Her eyebrow danced upwards. "Well then. Why should I remove it?"

He brought his face close to hers, his black eyes going gray with anger. "Move it, Dahlia."

But she didn't back down. "Or what?"

She regretted the retort the minute it slipped from her lips, for his eyes dropped down to her mouth, something dark coating his eyes. Her heart plummeted painfully into her stomach. "You do it and I will kill you."

She nearly lost her cool when he merely smirked at her. "Go right ahead, Dahlia. Be my guest."

And when he leaned in, she jerked back, eyes going wide for a split second as the ice bag tumbled to the ground. She schooled her features in an instant, however, and watched as his face slid back into its usual mask.

"Coward," he said softly, his eyes dead despite the smile on his lips.

She kept her eyes on his as she murmured, "I know."

* * *

"How about we head to the ranch tomorrow and ride horses?" Ethan suggested as the gathered around the main room, the adults lounging at the table with drinks place before them. The teenagers and children were sprawled around the couch, the eldest of them taking refuge on the couch. The boys- Shia, Dante, Christian, and Chase- were engaged in a four way battle on the GameStation, while the rest of the male population watched the screen with eager eyes. Malachi merely yawned, his head pillowed beneath his arms as Melody scooted closer to him with a book in hand. Kira was clattering around in the kitchen, pulling together desert for after the two dozen pizzas that Sam and Dahlia had gone to get. Sophie was settled on the counter, long legs folded under her as she offered Kira a conversation.

Grey was sprawled at Shia's feet coloring with her baby sister, Haven, while Cameron and Ada cuddled together on the far side of the floor, her back pillowed against his chest as the watched their family and friends bicker. Lucan was currently fending off Mac with a pillow while she tried to beat him to a bloody pulp, while Cyborg's twins twisted around on the floor in their daily brawl. All in all, it was complete and total pandemonium.

Or just life, as Robin liked to say.

"Hey, watch it! That's cheating!" Dante leaned in front of Shia to block his view as he tried to swerve his car back onto the virtual track from where Shia had rammed him. The older boy merely scowled, using his elbow to try and shove Dante away.

"Is not. It's called friendly competition- hey, Christian, that wasn't cool!"

Christian snickered as Shia's car fishtailed and crashed into Dante's car, sending both of them into the wall. The scowled at him as their cars burst into flames and the screen happily stated:

PLAYER ONE, TERMINATED! PLAYER THREE, TERMINATED!

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Shia tossed down his controller with a pout. "Cheater," he added when Christian tried to drive Chase off the road.

Christian grinned. "Friendly competition."

Shia scowled, arms folded over his built chest. "Payback is in order, I think."

Christian jerked the controller to him when Chase swerved in front of him and kissed his car's fender. "Ay! Cheating-"

"Friendly competition," he smirked as his car darted through the finish line. Christian gawked, wide eyed, before he slipped into a pout.

"Aw man."

Shia plunked down on the ground beside Grey, watching nonchalantly as she outlined Cinderella's dress in a bright, neon pink marker while Haven happily ran her own color wildly on the opposing page.

"I'm not much into Disney Princesses, but last time I checked, Cinderella's dress was blue."

His eyebrow arched high when she dropped the marker to replace it with black and proceeded to draw tiny skulls on the skirt. He chuckled when she said, "Its called diversity. How would you like to wear the same color all the time?"

"Okay, okay, don't get defensive." He blinked when Haven shoved a book at him. She locked innocent eyes with him and stated loudly, "Color."

He glanced down at the innocent coloring book, already marred with the signature of a four year old, and couldn't help but smile. "All right. Sounds good." He deftly ignored Grey's softening expression as he flipped open the book to find a blank page. He regarded the prince from Sleeping Beauty with a frown. "Diversity, huh?"

She burst into laughter as he started to color the prince's hair a bright green. "Nice," she added as he leaned closer to sketch an eyebrow piercing into the poor Prince's left eyebrow. "We're so horrible," she mused as Cinderella suddenly sported purple hair. "Poor Walt would be so disappointed."

"Neh, but like you said, they need diversity." He cocked his head slightly. "So, Haven, who's your favorite Disney Princess?"

"Belle." She answered almost automatically, still making wide, sloppy circles on the paper.

He raised an eyebrow when Grey glanced sheepishly at him. "Ah, that's my fault. I happened to say that she was my favorite Disney character, for not only was she a smart ass who didn't care what others thought, she feel in love with an ugly beast because of his heart, and not his looks. That, and she could handle herself pretty well when it came to protecting herself. She didn't need to be kissed by a prince like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White. She thought for herself and loved without seeing merely the cover of the book."

"True, but if memory serves, Jasmine was like that too. She loved a man who was not in her social caliber, yet never succumbed to letting someone mold her into who they wanted her to be. She was a smart ass, too, and did not let people walk all over her."

Grey regarded him with a soft smile. "Watching Disney movies again, Shia?"

Instead of blushing like she expected, he merely grinned. "Ah, you caught me. I'm a sucker for classic Disney movies riddled with romantic mush." He sighed melodramatically. "So much for my hidden secret."

She shook her head in amusement. "You're so weird, Shiamar."

His eyes went wide with feigned astonishment. "Why, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

She nudged him with her shoulder, sliding him an amused glace from the corner of her eye. "Jackass."

"Bad word!" Grey blinked when Haven pointed her marker at her with displeasure playing over her face. "Momma says that's a bad word meant for Daddy only."

From behind them, Beast Boy gave a disgruntled, "Hey." She knew without glancing up that her father was sporting a heavy pout. This caused her to chuckle as she offered her baby sister an apology. "All right, I'm sorry. I won't call him a jackass anymore. 'Kay?"

Haven stared her with a purse of her lips before settling down to resume her craft. Shia made an amused sound in the back of his throat as he added sparkles to Prince Philip's red pants. Grey choked on a laugh.

"Wow," Dante said slowly as he studied the picture. "Looks like something my dad would wear."

Shia laughed. "Yeah…you're right. Betcha anything we could find something like this in his closet."

"Hey! I used to have pants like that when I was twelve!" Beast Boy chirped as he glanced at the picture from over the couch. "Nice."

"Dude…that is so wrong," Chase managed with an arched eyebrow. "That's... wow." He scooted to the edge of the couch when Sam and Dahlia swept in with the heavy aroma of tomato sauce and melted cheese. "I have nothing to say about that."

"Dahlia," Shia pouted as he lifted to his feet. "Chase cheated again."

"We all cheated, you tattletale," Chase huffed as Dahlia cocked an eyebrow in his direction. "Sheesh. Do you really want her to kill me?"

Dahlia lined up the boxes on the counter as she stated blandly, "I can't kill stupid people. It's against my religion."

"Thank God," he mumbled as he plopped down in his father's lap, cackling when Twain huffed and tried to shove him off. "Then Shia and I are safe for another day."

He grinned when Shia sent him an affronted look, ignoring his father's incessant pokes. Shia glared halfheartedly as he pushed himself from the floor, easily sidestepping both Logan girls as he moved to lift the lid open to the closest box. "Mmm, yummy."

Dinnertime, as usual, was loud with laughter and bickering. Lucan was currently squirming ecstatically beside Sam, who had dragged his chair next to her in her attempt to make him feel as if he were a part of her crowd. Shia and Chase were forcing Kira into a chair between them as she tried to get up top scurry to the counter, Dante watching them with amusement playing over his features. Christian was struggling to answer every medical question Dahlia asked him, trying to figure out who the hell she had killed when she asked how long it would take for a man to die if she scraped his throat with one of her arrows. The rest of the brood- every possible child created between the victims of the White Rose- were talking amongst themselves loud enough to have Beast Boy cringing.

"Eighteen years and I still can't handle all the noise," Beast Boy said as he swiveled in his chair to watch the pandemonium.

Robin snorted. "Things will never be calm around here, Beast Boy, so I suggest you get used to it. Once our babies grow up, they'll be bringing us their own babies."

Before Beast Boy could complain on that, Raven added, "And with all the children we have- and prospective romances, if you count all the blushes floating around- we are going to have a butt loads of brats again."

Even Starfire flinched at that one. "And I am sure they will bring them all here, as well."

Robin pinned Cyborg with a nasty glare. "If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have an indoor pool, or arcade room, or the perfect place for teenagers and children to hang around. Our retirement is still going to involve bustles of kids. Who told us it was our job to repopulate the world?"

This time, Robin was on the receiving end of a smoldering glace. "Are you upset with our children, Richard?"

Beast Boy snickered at the unease that flickered across Robin's unmasked eyes. "Umm, no, not at all. But…six kids? Well, okay, so a set of twins and a set of triplets were out of our hands. But look at Beast Boy and Raven. They've got four…which isn't so bad, but have you noticed that none of us have less than two? Even Cy has three. That is a butt load of teenage hormones."

From down the long line of adults, Twain snorted. "Try raising four boys and a girl who cares more about sports and rough housing than Barbies and make up. You ain't got nothing on us."

Katelynn rolled her eyes. "Twain, you idiot, they're raising superheroes. Come on, Shia was flying around the room when he was a year old and Sam was trying to shoot him down with star bolts. It took them six hours to find Grey when she was two and thought it would be funny to morph into a fly and ride around on Beast Boy's shoulder. And do we really want to think about Sophie and her knack for becoming smaller than a bee and hiding in Cyborg's tool box?"

Twain scowled, but before he could say something snarky, his compactor vibrated in his pocket. Katelynn, Colt, Harley, and Twain paused as the older teens stopped talking to glace over at them when each brought forth their communicator.

Grumbling, Twain fished out the black oval compact and flipped it open. He held it in the palm of his hand as a mini-hologram flitted in front of him. A tall, lanky man shifted nervously as Twain barked, "What the hell do you want? We've got tonight off, Masters."

"Um, I think there is something you should know, Captain. Do you think you can have me transmitted to a larger screen? This is something that the Titans need to see."

Robin frowned as Twain handed him the compacter. Robin walked to the mainframe and slid it into the drive, quickly keying in a set code. Moments later, a screen drifted down over the bay windows, the man's face spreading out across it.

"What is this about?" Twain asked as he pushed himself off the stool. The room was quiet now, all attention turned toward the screen. The redheaded officer flushed as his eyes swept over his audience before his shoulders stiffened.

"Sir, we interrogated the wind demon as you ordered."

"Oh? And what about the sweep of the crime scene? Did you find anything?" Colt's eyes went hard as the man blanched. "What did you find?"

"Well, firstly, I think you should see this."

Masters turned around when a uniformed cop offered a tiny disk. "This is from the interrogation screening. We…we thought you should see this before we show you what we found." He was seconds away from slipping in the disk when he paused. Twain cursed. "Dammit, Masters, what the-"

"I think it would be best if you did not let your children see this. At least the ones who are not yet teens or don't really understand...sex."

Twain faltered for a moment before he turned to Robin. He nodded in understanding. "All right, we have some things to do. Sam, Kira, Dahlia, Grey, get the younger kids to-"

"Captain, they're the ones who need to see this the most."

Starfire and Raven went stiff as said girls stopped in rounding up the children. "I'll take them," Sophie offered, followed by Hannah's daughters.

"We can take things from here," Melody said quietly, already plucking Haven from her chair. Tension clogged the air as the last of the younger children were ushered away.

"Dammit, Masters, I'll have your hide if you got us worked up over this for no reason." Twain bit out, but Masters shook his head.

"Captain, please, just watch. I think you might need to sit." Colt glared at the screen, causing the younger officer to stoop his shoulders, but the adults followed the offer. The teens lingered behind the couch, confusion written across their faces.

"Why do we need to see this?" Ada questioned, her eyes immediately jumping to Sam and Kira. "Does this have to do with the fight this morning?"

The officer gave a curt nod. "She, the wind demon, wants to talk to you personally, but we did not have direct orders, so we merely recorded what she had to say."

"Can you get her on?" Harley asked. "If this is as bad as you say, then we might be able to get more information if we talk to her through the screening."

The officer faltered. "Um…Captain, I don't think-"

"Get it set up, Masters. You have ten minutes." Twain's jaw clenched. "Malachi, Sebastian, Nathaniel, I want you to keep watch on the door in case anyone tries to come through."

They nodded and headed off to do as they were commanded, but the door slid open and the Matthews girls walked through. "Sophie's taking care of the kids," Roxanne said, eyebrows drawn together. "She said we should come back."

Melody bit her lip as Ethan frowned before answering them with a curt nod. Ryanne shifted nervously when they passed the three teens intent on guarding the door. She knew something was not right. She couldn't remember her parents ever being this somber since the graveyard incident. She flinched when her eyes landed on Kiranne's scar. Though she had been young, she couldn't help but wonder why Kiranne didn't hate her for what she had caused. It had been her fault that Kira had nearly been killed.

Kiranne caught her gaze, eyes softening when the younger girl fidgeted and refused to look up from the floor. Roxanne had always handled Kira's scar better than her twin, but knew that Ryanne couldn't come to terms with what had happened in the past. So Roxanne sighed softly, gently pushing her identical sister towards Kira. Ryanne turned with a glare, but Roxie merely shrugged innocently.

Ryanne glanced up at the older girl, who scooted over so Ryanne could take a place next to her. Shyly, Ryanne edged between her and Dahlia, both of them towering over her by a good foot. She eased a hip against the back of the couch while officers darted around in panic on the screen, Masters stumbling over his words as he ordered for them to set up a meeting between the demon and the heroes.

"Dammit," Beast Boy cursed, his carefree mood vanishing as his body stiffened. "There is only one reason why they're so dead set on us seeing this."

"We can't jump to conclusions," Robin reasoned, but a hard glint sharpened his gold eyes. "It's been eighteen years this January. If she hasn't attacked by now, it's likely she won't do it now."

"But why else would he be so adamant about us seeing the screening with the demon? She knows something and has told everything she knows." Raven risked a glance at her children, mouth turning down when Dante and Grey locked violet eyes with hers. Both were shadowed with confusion, but mostly, they were hard with knowledge. They knew of the White Rose past, but all answers had been vague. They had barely scraped the top, merely summing it up.

But Raven had a sinking feeling that things would no longer be a horrifying memory to them anymore.

Masters appeared on the screen again, pale face flushed. "We have things set up, Sir, but…I don't know if this is the best way for things to go about. She's been screaming…things all day."

"What things?"

When his eyes flickered to every girl lined behind the parents, the White Rose victims stiffened. "Dammit," Raven muttered, her heart sinking in her chest. "Not now."

Sympathy danced in the officer's brown eyes as he managed to say, "I'm so sorry, Captain. I'm transmitting her to you now."

Hélène sat at a scarred metal table, broken wrists laid before her and eyes locked on the screen. She smiled slowly, pointed teeth flashing against the florescent lights as gaze jumped over each face at the Titan Tower.

"Well, well, looks like the gang's all here," she purred.

"What do you want?" Robin seethed. "Haven't you caused enough trouble today?"

She shrugged lightly, the vision of calm. "You can never cause too much trouble, Robin. It's why people like you are here." She leaned forward, flinching when the movement jarred her wrists. "But I'm not here to talk nice with you. I have a message."

She grinned when his face went pale and his teammates stiffened. "You catch on quickly. It's been eighteen years since then, hasn't it? But you haven't stopped looking over your shoulder, have you? You haven't stopped wondering when she'll appear again, and snatch your daughters right out from under you. She doesn't want your men. Oh no, your baby boys are safe. But again, this is something I'm sure you know as well. After all, you don't spend that much time in the hands of a rapist without getting to know their mind. You've gone over every possible way to shield them from her, haven't you? Training them to defend themselves, forcing them to strengthen mind and body so they can get out of any situation."

"Why are you saying this?" Colt ground out, trying to ignore the way his wife's breath caught in her throat when memories swamped her. He tried to forget about the feel of her blood on his hands, tried to forget the raw terror of knowing he could lose her, tried to forget everything that those bastards had done.

"Well, you see, I have two choices. One, I rot in prison knowing she'll get me, yet unable to find out when. Two, she finds me and tortures me for failing. I figure I might as well leave my imprint before she gets me. Not even prison bars will keep her away."

She stood up, weaving around the table until she faced the screen. Head jerking up, Hélène smiled. "Boys, you might want to leave. This is between me and those little whores standing next to you."

Dante gave a low, lethal growl as green power flashed through Shia's eyes. "Do not speak of them like that," Beast Boy snarled.

"I gave you fair warning," she sighed. "I fear my time's running short, so I must relate my messages quickly."

She shifted her eyes, and to everyone's unease, locked dead eyes with Kiranne, and Kiranne only. "Get ready, bitches. You're all going down." She grinned slightly. "And I can promise you this, sweetheart. That scar you harbor now? That ain't got shit on the things she'll do when she gets a hold of you. That," she added when Robin and Shia leapt up, intent on ripping the screen to shreds as Dante jerked her to his side without thinking, "goes for more than just you, Kiranne."

Officers piled into the room after her last comment, binding her broken wrist behind her back as she howled in pain. But before the line could be cut, she screamed out, "They're paying for you, you know! She auctioning off the ones she doesn't want! No one is safe anymore! No one will be safe until she kills off every goddamn one of your little daughters'! Keep that in mind when you sleep at night. Better enjoy the time you've got. She will not stop until you kill her and every one of her lackeys."

They could only watch as Hélène was shoved out of the room, still screaming out about Rebecca's plans. Suddenly, the feed cut and Masters stricken face filled the screen. "Captain," he started out slowly, "I…what she said…it was mere child's talk compared to what she said on the interrogation disk. On that…all she talks about is…their rape. Nothing more." Masters's young face went green. "It…went into explicit detail, Captain. Some…well, some of the officers couldn't handle listening to it. It's…why I didn't want the children to hear it, if you had chosen to watch that.

"But, Sir, that's not all."

"Oh, this is fucking great," Twain snapped. "What else?"

Masters straightened his shoulders, throwing another apologetic look at the victims of the past. "Well, at the scene, we found this."

He moved away from the screen to zoom in on a string of white, un-bloomed roses lined on a metal desk. "Sir, we did a count," he said softly. "Given the circumstances, we knew there was a hidden meaning behind the quantity." When Twain merely stared at him, eyes hard, Masters swallowed hard. "There…there is a rose here for each daughter of the White Rose survivors."

No one made a sound when Starfire burst into tears.


	8. Chapter Seven

"Spying on the parentals is not a nice habit, Grey."

Grey snorted from her perched position on Shia's back, idly shifting onto her knees as she pressed her tipped ear against the metal of the main room door. "Well, dear brother, it's not nice to kick us out of the room so they can talk about our potential rapists behind our backs."

Dante flinched slightly at that, trying his best to keep his features schooled. Shia, on the other hand, was not so good at hiding his reaction. "Damnit, Grey, don't talk like that," he snapped, grunting lightly when her boney knees dug into his shoulder blades. "Not everyone appreciates your blunt replies."

She scowled down at him, her hands tightening against his shoulders as she shifted her weight once more to find a better position. "Well, it's the truth. You'd think they would plot with us, considering that wind wench said that we were the targets. I mean, seriously. That's just wrong, keeping us out of the loop like that."

Dante eased his index fingers into the front loops of his jeans. "Grey, they probably need to get their head on straight before they talk about… that with you. How would you feel if your worst nightmare threatened your daughters? Would you want to look them in the face while you're trying to think of ways to keep your daughters from being… raped by a woman whose screws are a bit too loose? Besides," he added when the Twain brothers, their ears plaster against the door, threw him a nasty look at his direct statement, "why don't you just be the proverbial fly on the wall… only, you're really a fly on the wall?"

Dahlia cocked her head at him while Grey eyed him disdainfully. "Okay, first off, that is the lamest thing you have ever said. Second off, Dad is not that stupid. Any animal he spots, all talking will stop until he makes damn sure it's not one of us. Remember when Dahlia nearly fried Chase when we were young? Yeah, we tried to listen on that conversation too, but Dad caught me, and he locked me in a glass jar for two hours. Two _flipping_ hours, with only a tiny little hole so I could breathe. If I morphed out of it, I would have had to skip our eighth grade dance. I ain't stupid. And also, they know we're out here, and they haven't shooed us away yet. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to concentrate. Thankfully, the men have deep voices, so it's easier to catch onto their words. Mom and Star… well, that's why I need to concentrate. Go… mess with Kira or something," she stated offhandedly, momentarily taking her hand off of Shia's shoulders to wave him off like an annoying pest. "She's somewhere around here, I guess."

Dante eased a shoulder against the wall. "Why isn't she here?"

Dahlia rolled her eyes, skillfully planting her foot on Chase's rear and sending him sprawling so she could use his back as a seat. "Dante, you dolt, Kiranne's not going to stoop to eavesdropping like us. That, and she was kinda shaken after that wind bitch locked eyes with her and said that we all were being sold as sex slaves. We can handle that," she said, using her hand to gesture at Ada and Grey with no emotions put behind the movement. "Kira? Not so much. She blushes if you talk about kissing. Rape isn't something she can take very well, especially since it seems like she's the main target-"

"Where's Sam?"

Dahlia broke off her tirade, mouth quirking downwards at Dante's hasty change of subject. It seemed that Kira wasn't the only one who had a hard time talking about something so sinister.

Grey caught on quickly to her brother's nauseated unease and twisted her features into a coy smirk to settle his nerves. "Sam's in her room, pouting, because they told Christian that he could stay but she couldn't. She thinks she should be involved in everything, and when she's not, well, she gets a bit testy."

Chase eased up onto his elbows, cupping his jaw in his hands while Dahlia settled, cross-legged, against the small of his back. "She doesn't take into consideration that Christian is a genius. He's twenty-one and has already graduated from one of the most prestigious colleges in the world. If anyone can help think of a plan, it'll be him."

"Yes, but Sam has this… Robin complex," Cameron said, blinking rapidly when Dahlia pressed her thumbs against Chase's shoulder blades, smirking manically as he gave a pained- or pleasured, he wasn't sure- groan. "She thinks she should have a part in everything."

Grey pulled her ear away from the door long enough to giggle and exchange knowing looks with Adara. "I think it's only because Christian is in there. Of course she wants some part of it. Say, Dante, why don't you trot off and find Kira? I'm sure she can use some company." Dante frowned when his older sister waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Shia grunted beneath her, pushing his body from the floor and nearly toppling Grey onto her back. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck to gain balance. "Grey, I would prefer it if you would stop trying to hook my sisters up. I'd rather they stay just as they are, if you don't mind."

Grey frowned as she pulled her body around him to plop down on his knee. She turned slightly to pin him with her best adorable pout she could find in her arsenal. "Aw, but Sammy does want Christian. And, if memory serves, Kira's had a thing for Dante since-"

"I'm going to… go find something to do," Dante muttered as he waved an annoyed hand at his sister. He shoved off the wall, deftly ignoring Grey's pleased giggle, and disappeared down the hallway. When he was far out of his sister's sight, he cursed beneath his breath.

Why was it in his sister's nature to try and goad him into a relationship with Kira? Since the horrible incident with that bitch Rebecca at the cemetery, Grey had brought up the potential relationship between them constantly. When they were still too young to think about kissing, she had tried to push hand holding. When they hit thirteen, she brought up kissing. When they hit fifteen, it was dating, and from there on, it was a full blown relationship with dates and all that romantic crap. She didn't bother asking him if he _wanted_ it, nor did she ask Kira if it was okay to profess her emotions about him to the entire world. She did it without question, uncaring if it pissed him off. Couldn't he move at his own pace?

Dante halted in the middle of the hallway, brooding silently about his last thought. _If_ he wanted a relationship with her, he amended silently, and, pleased with this answer, continued on his trek.

Grey was one of those people who thought everything was okay if they thought the victim wanted it. She dug her way into the affairs of others- literally- and tried her damnedest to end the ones she wasn't happy with. Dante had lost more girls because of his sister's knack for cornering them in dark, secluded places and threatening to bring up unpleasant secrets she had dug up if and when they did anything she wasn't pleased with.

Dante really didn't mind that his sister cared deeply enough about him to try and ruin every possible romance he had, it was the fact that she didn't trust his judgment about the subject. She had no faith in him when it came to the opposite sex, so when he finally did come across the right one, she wouldn't be happy unless it was Kiranne.

It was too bad that Kiranne really did want to be with him. Dante sulked at the sudden tightening in his stomach as he slouched his way into the elevator. Really, couldn't she find some other guy to moon over? He was too lazy to be the sort of man she needed, especially since it would be her first relationship. He didn't know how to be romantic or sweet or gentle when it came down to the bare basics of a good relationship. He didn't cater to a woman's every whim, and when he get mad, he got nasty. He refused to back down during a verbal argument, and if they did something stupid, he said something about it, even if they did get huffy and puffy about it. Kiranne needed someone who would pull out her chair for her when about to be seated, open doors for her and buy her flowers for their one month anniversary.

But then again, what if she settled with some no good bastard who took all she was for granted? What if she agreed to be with some sleazebag who only wanted her for her body? What if she finally accepted Dick's offer? He would ruin her, Dante concluded with a tinge of guilty despair, all because Dante didn't want his chance with her. He would take everything she had, just because he wanted to conquer what no one else had. The only reason why Richard hadn't gotten his hands on her was because of her family, but if she came to decide that she would be with Richard, no one would stop her. They couldn't. Everyone in the tower had been raised to make their own mistakes- a fact Grey ignored. But if she agreed to Dick, wouldn't it be _his_ mistake? After all, she wanted Dante, but if he acted as he always had been and ignored her feelings despite knowing all about them, she would think herself worthless, and go right into Dick's nasty arms.

Dante pressed the eighth floor button with more force than necessary. Why was he thinking on this? Every time he thought about Kira and the possibilities, he always managed to give himself a headache. When it came down to it, he decided, it was always Grey's fault. If it wasn't her actions, it was her words.

The elevator doors _ping_ed open and Dante lazily stepped out, only to have something hard and heavy shoved into his stomach. His breath whooshed out of his lungs, but before he could even look down to see what had rammed into him, a soft, humiliated cry reached his ears.

"D-Dante! O-oh! I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going a-and-"

Dante rubbed his palm across his abused abs, narrowed eyes focused on the laundry basket held beneath her breasts. "You need to get your brakes checked," he groused, but his bad mood was doused by curiosity. Ignoring her mortified blush, Dante prodded at the plain white basket.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Her brows furrowed slightly at his sudden disposition. When she was positive he wasn't angry, Kira tightened her arms around the basket and managed, "Umm… laundry."

She shrank back when he glared hotly. "Laundry? _Your_ laundry?"

Kira's face twisted in confusion, causing Dante to clench his teeth when a smile threatened to ruin his mock anger. "Umm… yes?" she stated slowly, head cocked slightly as she waited for his reaction on that.

"You were going to wash your clothes without informing anyone?"

Now that Kiranne thought him completely insane, Dante eased back on his frontal attack. "If memory serves, the losing team is to take over all the winner's chores, which includes laundry. You were going to betray this bargain?"

Her nose wrinkled slightly in confused bewilderment. "Umm…"

"Well, then, in that case," he decided, hands already reaching out for the laundry basket, "I must remove this from your person and take over my forced duty." He frowned when she tightened her grip on it.

"No! I-I mean, I-I have it u-under control. I can do my own laundry," she stated with more confidence, briefly glancing up at him through long crimson lashes. "You… are pardoned from my chores," she said softly. "I'd rather do them my-"

"Sorry, kid, but I don't go back on my word. I lost, fair and square… okay, so maybe it wasn't all that fair, but we were both deceiving, so… it's my job. Now, hand 'em over and I'll get them back to you when they're-"

"No!"

Dante lurched forward when she jerk the basket out of his grip, nearly toppling over at the strength she put behind it. When he caught his balance, Dante glanced down at her in shocked amazement. "Kiranne, what's your problem? I'm doing you a favor and we all know that's something I'm not known for doing."

He snatched his quick hands back out to the basket before she could turn tail and run. Wrapping long, pale fingers over the plastic rim, Dante gave it a little tug so it was trapped tightly between them. "Now, let me do my good deed and-"

"I can do it," she nearly purred with annoyed heat. Dane was so shocked by this new show of fire from her that when she twisted her body away from him, basket still in her grip, he jerked forward. Reacting quickly, Dante snatched out his arm and weaved it around her, using all his body weight to throw them both backwards so he wouldn't crush her if he had happened to fall forward. Kira had no choice but to let go of the basket so it dropped to the ground with a flurry of white cloth.

Dante hit the ground hard on his back, Kira draped over him. Dante shook his head to move aside the curtain of red curls covering his eyes like a fiery mask, grunting as his shoulder blades started to ache uncomfortably. She jerked her head to the side so her hair spilled over her shoulder and he was free to pin her with slightly narrowed eyes. "Jeez, Kiranne," he muttered, but there was no heat in his words.

Dante's eyebrows drew together when he spotted white out of the corner of his eye. He shifted beneath her to reach for it, but Kira was quicker. With a barely suppressed squeak, she jerked the clothing to her, causing her to lose her balance and crash completely into him. Dante could feel the heat of her blush leek through the barrier of their clothes and it suddenly dawned. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're washing your bras and underwear, aren't you?"

When she proceeded to blush the color of fresh blood, Dante chuckled again, gently easing her onto her side. He pressed a hand to her collarbone when she tried to get up to quickly gather the tumbled clothes. "That's what you're worried about? Man, I thought you were just being ornery." He sighed. "So much for that."

Kiranne watched him as he slipped to his feet, eyeing the scatter around him. "I haven't seen so much white since Christmas," he murmured in amusement as his eyes scanned her underclothing. "Do you have any other colors?" He wondered, grinning softly when she hesitantly shook her head.

He rolled his eyes gently. "You need more variety," he said conversationally as he reached down to pick up a bland bra. He was quite proud of her when she didn't jerk up and try to wrestle it from his grasp, instead opting to watch him with a permanent blush painted across her cheeks.

When he picked up what seemed to be the same style bra, he asked, "Do you even wear lace? Silk? Anything other than cotton?"

She leaned up into her elbows slowly, eyes locked on her feet as she mulled over her answer. He waited patiently, curious as to how far she could go without fainting and/or panicking that he was holding her bra in his hands.

"No," she finally said, blushing somehow deepening. "I… t-there's no n-need for t-that kind." Her eyebrows drew together when she realized the extent of their conversation, but she still made no move to do anything about his actions when he reached down to pick up her underwear. Instead, her eyelids fluttered closed, fists clenching as she mentally pretended that it was not happening.

"All white," he said in wonder. "Even in these. Why? I'd get tired of seeing the same kinda crap on me if it was me." He cocked his head, letting himself briefly enjoy the image of seeing her in the clothing he held in his hand before he moved onto the next pair to toss into the basket.

"No one sees it but me, so… it… doesn't really matter how t-they're made."

"Well I'm seeing it." Dante closed his eyes in embarrassment at saying such a bold thing to her. "Well… I mean… you know, never mind. I so just humiliated us both on that one, so I'll just drop it completely." He shook his head to get rid of the fantasy his stupid comment invoked.

"Well then… since you have nothing to hide from me, I'm going to wash your things," he stated when he picked up all articles of clothing. Kiranne finally did scramble up after him when he moved to the elevator, sliding her way in before the doors closed. He propped the basket on his hip, brow cocked as he studied her features. "Don't trust me?" He asked in jest, lips curving when she mumbled a hasty no.

"Or are you making sure I don't use too much detergent this time? You have to admit, it was quite amusing to watch Grey disappear in the bubbles when she tried to stop the washer." He grinned at the memory. "Oh, we so pissed her off then."

"Her h-height is a t-touchy subject," she murmured softly, hands wringing. This was the longest conversation she had ever been in with him and she refused to let her shyness get in the way of her small spark of confidence.

"I'd be pissed too if I was only four feet tall and crushing on a seven foot tall guy."

Kira cut her eyes to him in shock. "She likes Shia?"

Pleased that she managed one sentence without stammering, Dante nodded. "You didn't know? How can you miss it?"

Her eyebrows drew together. "I… don't really pay attention."

Dante shifted the basket in to his rest against his opposite hip so he could run a thumb between her brows. "Don't do that; you'll wrinkle that cute face of yours. And you don't notice things because you're trying too hard to be perfect. No one likes people who try to be something they're not just to find a place in the crowd." Dante's eyes softened when she turned her head away from him to stare at the laminated elevator floor.

"You know, people like you are just fine as they are. For some reason, they happen to find your shyness endearing."

Dante let her slip out of the elevator first when the doors slide open to the basement floors, silently trailing after her as she made her way to the laundry room. He watched her from behind, noting the way the muscles in her back tensed the closer he drifted, only relaxing when he purposefully paused to adjust the plastic basket to a more comfortable position and put more space between them. Inconspicuously, he sniffed the air to gauge her emotional state. Nervous, uneasy, excited, curious, a tinge of lust. Nothing completely out of the ordinary, but there was something else there, lingering beneath the spiced scent of her normal reaction towards him that made him pause and take stock of his range of knowledge. He had smelled the same scent before, but he couldn't quite place it. It was something dark, yet light, not yet morphed into its stronger state. He pondered over the new smell until they made it to the plain sliding door.

Kira keyed in the entrance code, programmed the inside lights at 33 percent and waited patiently for the doors to follow her command and quickly open up. When settled inside the small laundry room, Dante sat down the basket on a long stretch of cemented slab, set to be a bench. The air reeked of laundry soap and fabric softener, quickly killing any chance of him trying to figure out her new emotional scent. Disgruntled, Dante jerked open the washer, flicked on the water, and started to heap her clothes into the machine, all while dumping in over half a bottle of detergent. Kiranne wasn't quick enough to stop him, so she settled back, an amused ghost of a smile dancing across her face.

"That… might be the cause of the last bubble escapade," she said softly, barely managing to smoother her laugh when bubbles started to leak from the lip after he had snapped the dial to its cycle.

He frowned at the soap glove covering his hand. "Well damn." He waved it off nonchalantly. "We'll let Grey help clean up," he stated, face twisting into a coy smirk. Silence descended after that, Dante watching her twist her fingers together in her nervous habit and Kiranne deftly ignoring his gaze.

"Why aren't you up there?" He asked quietly after the spin cycle had started, putting them together in the small room for over twenty minutes.

Kiranne glanced up at him briefly before turning her head away to stare at a water stain bruising the wall caused by the last time Dante washed any clothes without supervision. "They don't want us in there for a reason," she mumbled quietly. "I don't want to overhear things we aren't meant to." With a sudden burst of confidence, she threw him a small, rare smile that held no trace of hesitance. "Besides, I'd rather not spy."

He returned her expression with full force. "You're right. I can't see you snooping around and plastering your ear to a door so you can try to pick up the deeper tones of the men." He rolled his eyes. "Grey looks even weirder now that she's perched on Shia's knee trying to overhear."

Kiranne smiled again, but once it returned to its rare place in her small assortment of confident expressions, she was back to twisting her fingers together. Dante let them slide back into silence, deciding only to speak if she brought up the subject.

He expected to spend the rest of the laundry cycle in silence, but Kiranne spoke up five minutes into the quiet. She refused to look at him as she asked his name hesitantly.

Eyebrow cocking up, Dante answered with a grunt. His eyebrows drew together when she bit her lip, her strange eyes clouding. "Do… you think that woman… do you think it's because of this?" Dante felt his heart drop into his stomach when she traced a slim finger against the ragged scar slicing across her throat. "Is she doing this because I didn't die?"

"Don't talk like that," he snapped, but his tone was too soft to be condemning. He slowly skimmed his tongue across his dry lips. "This is… because she's pissed that Mom and Star got away. That's all. But you don't have to worry. They'll figure something out. That, or just lock you in the tower for the rest of your life."

She nodded slightly, mouth curving. Dante let his own slip up at the corners, eyes skimming across her face. In reality, Kiranne really wasn't anything compared to her sisters as far as appearance went. Her features were plainer than pretty without anything painted on her. When she smiled, she could easily pass for pretty, but nothing more. She was nothing extraordinary in outward appearance, but because of that, she didn't even try to smother herself up in cosmetics. Unfortunately, it was another reason he didn't want to be with her. Not because she was not beautiful like his other girls were, but because she would constantly think she wasn't pretty enough for him. Dante was by no means vain, but he knew Kira would find any little flaw in herself to use it against herself and pretend that he didn't care. It also didn't help his case that he thought her more appealing without make up, even if he had yet to see her in it.

"I think the laundry is done," she said quietly and Dante snapped out of his revere long enough to notice that the washer had stopped. He blinked away cobwebs as he turned and proceeded to throw the whites into the dryer.

"How… are things with… M-Miranda?"

Dante flinched slightly, hands tightening around the lip of the washing machine. "Things are… ending," he slipped after finding his brain had switched onto overdrive at trying to find the best way to not hurt Kiranne, closing his eyes in distain at his stupidity.

"Ending?" She repeated, tone hesitant and slightly hopeful. She cleared her throat. "Why?"

Dante slammed the lid closed to the dyer and mulled over how to fix his mistake. One, he could pass it over as a joke and risk squashing her hopes, or two, he could just go out and tell her the truth. Just because he didn't feel the same way she did didn't mean that he couldn't talk openly to her. They were friends of sorts, and wasn't that what friends do? Console each other about rickety relationships? Besides, maybe she could be of some help. She just wanted him to be happy, so maybe she could give him some advice. It was worth a shot, after all. And it gave him another reason to keep her talking. If he did something stupid now, she'd close off and he'd be stuck in silence around her again. Things weren't stable between them at the present, so maybe this could balance them out.

He gave a heaving sigh and threw himself down on the bench, flopping around childishly until the crown of his head was nestled against her thigh and his lithe body was draped over the slab at odd angles. "This sucks," he amended, actually finding enough energy to go into detail about his screwy relationship with Jump City High School's most popular slut. "I should have never gotten myself into this. I mean, seriously, why would I lock myself in a relationship with a woman who wants sex more than _I_ do? The only reason we started dating was because our supposed one night stand left her thinking that I was forever hers. Did you know that Richard was her first love? Yeah, surprised me too. But he dumped her, she was all angsty, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I was too lazy to tell her that I really didn't want my first time to be with the girl who has more notches on her bed post than a paid prostitute. I'm telling you now that if I had never come across her, I'd still be a virgin, and you know what? I would be so much happier. I wish I would have never followed her into that damn room. Sex really isn't worth it unless you're with someone you actually care about. So don't do it," he added on an after thought. "Don't have sex with any one if the only excuse you can find is because you want to make a guy happy, you're pressured into it, or because some guy tells you it'll be fun." Dante was quite proud of working that little lecture into his rant, even if none of the above situations had planted him in his annoying predicament.

He stared at the ceiling. "But I didn't break it off because I was lazy. I didn't want the drama, but I didn't want to be with her." He folded his hands across his stomach, fingers linking and frown settling between his eyebrows. "I'm not even content when I'm with her. All those after school callings are only because now that I know what sex is, I can't stop thinking about it, which is never a good thing for me, considering I think of it at all the inopportune times." _And with all the wrong people._

He arched his head back slightly to catch her expression. He expected a blush, perhaps a frown even, but instead, she had one eyebrow cocked upwards and a secret, almost unnoticeable smile tugging at her mouth. He nearly pouted. Why was it that his mistakes were so amusing?

"Then leave," she said after a long, hesitant pause. With more courage than she had ever shown, she bopped her thigh against him, giving him room to use her leg as pillow. To say he was shocked was an understatement, but Dante stumbled over the surprise and quickly settled down. It was easier to see her expression while she pretended to be his therapist and her leg, surprisingly, was actually comfortable, sinewy muscle and all.

"Ah, but therein lies the problem. I dump her, she throws a hissy fit in public, and drama will unfold. Grey will get mad at something stupid she says to me, Miranda will undoubtedly call Grey short in some form or fashion, and Grey will pounce, starting an all out war. Grey will get expelled for fighting, Miranda will probably threaten to sue us, after being attacked by a supposed superhero, and will only drop the charges if I become her bed buddy again. So it all blows up in my face anyway."

He shifted against her when she unconsciously twisted a long piece of his hair between her fingers as she stared off into space, completely unaware that she was actually being comfortable around him, instead of trying to be perfect, like she thought everyone wanted. He knew the moment she realized what she was doing, she would bowl him over in her hurry to get away from him. Marginally, he let his body stiffen to prepare for the inevitable fall. Until then, however, he would enjoy this new side of Kiranne that only he had seen… and bask in the smug pleasure of his luck.

"But… I'm tired of being with a girl I can hardly stand to look at, much less screw… I mean… um, well, yeah… So I think that I'll end it. I can't be lazy about something like this, not when I can hurt more than just me. I don't care for her, but I don't want to hurt her, either… why are relationships this complicated? You're lucky you don't have to deal with one."

Dante went rigid the same moment she did, a curse already burning the tip of his tongue. Before she could heave him off her, he quickly turned onto his stomach, arranging himself so he could look her straight on. He ended up boxing her in with his arms and torso. As predicted, she tried to pull back, but he leaned closer, so her only escape was to tumble backwards, a road she wouldn't take without bruising her dignity. That was one thing Kiranne didn't try to alter. If anything, her dignity was all that she felt really belonged to her and no one else. No one could change her pride like they could her outlook. So instead, she went stiff, muscles tensing and blood boiling beneath her skin, though her eyes never left his. Her jaw clenched, a tic pulsing against her cheek.

"Don't make this difficult, Kiranne," he said softly. "You can't twist everything I say and make it out to be an insult. Otherwise, you'll never be completely comfortable around me."

She braced her palms behind her, grip tightening against the cement until it cracked and rained down to the floor in a light gray powder. "Who's to say I'm not comfortable around you?" The tender muscles in her neck stretched against her skin when he leaned closer and she leaned back, her collarbones defined against her dark skin. She moved back away from him as far as she possibly could while still keeping perfectly balanced.

"You were seconds away from shoving me off you, Kiranne. I could smell the hurt and despair. Dammit, Kiranne, why do you have to be so flipping sensitive? Everything anybody says to you is some form of an insult. It doesn't matter if we tell you how pretty you are or how much we love you, because you'll immediately belittle yourself." Kiranne focused her gaze on his bicep, something dark bubbling behind her eyes as he continued his angry tirade.

"I make a stupid comment like that, and suddenly you think I'm saying you're not good enough to be in a relationship. I don't understand you. Why do you do this? No one has done anything to you that would cause you to act like the world is against you. All you're getting is pity. Is that what you want? To be pitied? To be treated like glass, because one little word can break you? Do you want everyone's attention focused on you because you think you're nothing? Why do you-"

"I want_ your _attention!" She snapped, her eyes boiling over with a fury he had never seen before.

Dante could do nothing more than stare at her, blood freezing in his veins as she shoved him away so he tumbled to the floor. He expected her to blush, stammer and run when she realized what she had just done, but Kiranne proved him wrong once again.

She plowed her fingers through her hair, loosening it from its bun at the nape of her neck so it tumbled down to her hips. Her face was flushed with pain, despair, and for the first time in her entire life, fury. Shy, sweet Kiranne was pissed, and it seemed, at the moment, she was finally going to let it all loose.

"All I ever wanted was your attention," she said softly, but the snarl was weaved into the words so the last syllable lashed at him like a whip. "You were the one I wanted to see me. I always had their attention, but _never_ yours. You never looked twice at me. You would look at Sam, at Ada, even at Dahlia, but never me. I know I'm nothing compared to my sisters, but dammit, I was okay with that! You were the one who made me feel inferior. You knew how I felt from Grey, yet you still treated me like I was not worth noticing, as if that would help change how I felt about you. How was I supposed to feel? You are the reason I try so hard, only to fail over and over again because obviously, trying to amount to something in your eyes is a fault!"

"Kiranne," he managed to say softly, and that one word seemed to douse her in freezing water, for she went stiff again, the angry tears merging into tears of utmost humiliation.

He heard her quick intake of breath, followed by what had to be one of the most heartbreaking whimpers he had ever heard. "Oh god," she squeaked. "I… I didn't… I didn't mean… I'm so sorry."

And to his horror, she burst into tears and fled from the room without a backward glance. Dante scrambled to his feet, tripping over the laundry basket in his hot pursuit of her. Cursing, he jerked it out of the way, only to bang his knee against the corner of the bench.

He yelped out another string of sailor curses, hissing between his teeth when he put pressure on his bruised leg. He hopped out of the laundry room, raptor eyes scanning the hallways. He heard the elevator ding to the right, meaning she was heading toward her room. Dante skidded down the hall just in time to see the doors closing on her.

"Wait! Kiranne, dammit, we seriously need to talk about this! Hold the elevator!" Clumsily, he skidded down the hall, the soles of his shoes slick against the ground. He crashed face first into the wall, somehow managing the whip his body around despite the ache against the bridge of his nose. He smacked his shoulder against the wall when he noticed the doors slipping closed, but never managed to get his hand between the open space. He did, however, manage to catch her resolved gaze as she locked eyes with him, and for the first time in a line of many today, Kiranne looked wickedly determined.

"Dammit!" He pounded his fist against the metal, snarling at his own stupid actions when pain radiated down his arm. With another muttered curse, Dante tossed his back against the wall, letting his aching body slid down the wall until his butt plopped down hard on the cement floor.

This was just _great_. He had finally gotten some form of heat from her, and what did it turn out to be? Her snapping and practically telling him that it was his fault she had no confidence in herself. But… everything she said had merit. He did overlook her constantly, and for the exact reason she said. Because he knew how she felt. He knew she loved him, that she wanted more from him, and that scared the hell out of him. He didn't _do _relationships like that. Sure, he had been with Miranda for nearly two years, but there was nothing there that kept him attached. He wasn't emotionally invested with her, but if he gave in to Kiranne… well, he knew he would get too attached to her, which would only cause her harm. He didn't… have complete control over what he was, and if he ever found himself in a predicament where he got too physically close to her… there was no telling what he would do. It didn't matter with Miranda, because she was used to things being rough. But everything he was with Miranda, it wasn't her he was seeing, but instead…

Dante sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair, dropping one hand lazily to pinch his sore nose. If he could be the rough just picturing that it was her beneath him… there was no telling what he would do if presented with the chance to take things beyond merely kissing… and… well, it wouldn't exactly be good for her mental state of well-being.

Dante really wasn't sure how he would react around her, but he didn't want to take a chance, especially since it was Kiranne he was thinking about…

And yet, what if he was missing his greatest chance at happiness? If Kiranne could actually spark the sudden urge to take her out on a date (movie, food, or whatever dating required) then she had to have _some_ hold over him. Normally, he was too lazy to even talk, yet around her he could spill out everything he usually kept inside, just out of arrogant spite. There was no telling what Kiranne could do for him. After all, no one knows that the future holds, so why not take the chance? For all he knew, Kiranne was actually the One. Yeah, corny, but still- what if he found everything he could possibly want with her?

On the other hand, was he really willing to take the chance? Dante dropped his head onto his bruised knee. And why did it feel as if her resolved gaze would be the end of Kiranne's adoration towards him? Of all the people, it was ironic that Kiranne was the most complex girl he had ever come across. She was the only girl he couldn't figure out, despite her simple nature. It would also be his luck that the one girl who really loved him would give up completely on him. But if he were in her shoes, he knew he would have given up long before. Damnit.

"Dante, sweetie, you are such an idiot."

His groan was long-suffering as Grey and Ada flanked him, both sliding down to mimic his posture like bookends. His sister patted his knee sympathetically. "It was mean of you to call Kiranne pitiful."

"I didn't mean it," he snarled, but it was mumbled, so the sting was lost on his sister… or just ignored. "And how did you hear? Peeping around the corner? You need to find a life, sister." If that was the case, than it seemed like his sister had a front row seat to his graceful face plant against the wall. Great.

"Dante, you are my life. And yes, we lost interest in the 'parentals' so we decided to spy on you. After all, you and Kira always hold the most amusement. But this time… well, let's just say we were all speechless."

"Even you?" He mocked, lifting his head long enough to pin her with a smug curve of his mouth. Grey pursed her lips and whacked him hard over the head, adding to the pain pounding down the bridge of his abused nose. "Listen to me, little brother… and don't mock your elders."

"Such a _short_ temper you have, _big_ sister."

Adara sighed, gently shoving Grey away when she tried to pounce. "Grey, what happened to your earlier proclamation? This won't help you lecture him if you let him rile you."

"Did you hear him?" She shrieked, causing Dante to recoil in pain. He rubbed his mistreated ears while Grey continued her rant. "He called me short. All I was doing was _trying_ to help and he picked on my… _height_."

"Grey," Dante groaned, and obviously there was enough emotion in that one syllable that she stopped screeching in his ear. "Grey," he added more softly. "There is nothing you can say that I don't already know. It was stupid, irresponsible, and-"

"Good for her."

Dante's head snapped up in shock to see Shia shrug his wide shoulders. "I mean, a little anger is good for everybody. And she actually showed an emotion that wasn't linked to shyness or resignation. She got _mad._ You actually made her scream at you. That in itself is an amazing feat. It wasn't under the best circumstances, but maybe this will help smooth things along. After all, I'm sure that if you don't decide on what to do, Kiranne will."

And _that_, Dante decided as Shia patted him roughly on the shoulder, was _exactly_ what he was afraid of.

XxX

Christian fiddled with a loose string dangling from his shirt, horror eating away at his insides as they played the tape for him. The wind witch's earlier threats were nothing compared to what he witnessed now.

"This is from the interrogation before she was linked to us," Twains said softly. "Masters wasn't kidding when he said this was bad."

Bile rising in his throat, Christian turned away from the screen, unable to listen any longer. Beast Boy had long past leaped from the couch to move as far away from the screen as possible, while Robin crushed the remote in his hands so blood careened to the floor from shallow wounds from the shards. Starfire, amazingly, had not made a sound, but he knew, just from the pale tint to her skin, that she was mere seconds away from breaking in some form.

"I think we get the gist of it," Christian murmured. Twain nodded softly, wrestling the remote from Robin's hand and clicking it off. It was moments like this, Christian decided, that he detested his sharp mind. If not for his mental acuity, he wouldn't be here, listen to the sickening things that woman said while offering the adults hope that he could somehow protect their daughters from Rebecca. Why couldn't he be normal just for a moment? Now, he knew, he would never be able to close his eyes without seeing one of his friends being brutally raped in one of the fashions that demon had mentioned. It was enough to actually make him sick to his stomach.

"So what do we do?" Beast Boy asked, voice choked. "I mean… Grey… wouldn't be able to survive that if… dammit." Christian flinched when Beast Boy's voice broke. "She's so small…"

"Stop," Raven snarled. "We can't think like that yet. All we need to concentrate on is protecting them from this. We can't let… that get in the way."

"She hired others like us to catch them," Starfire sobbed. "We've probably been taken down by some of the villains she's hired. We were almost taken down by a human, how can our girls fight against- ?"

"Starfire," Robin snapped. "Stop it. Raven's right, we can't think about that-"

"How the hell can you say that? My god, she practically painted a picture for us! How can you shove that aside like-"

"Beast Boy," Cyborg said softly. Beast Boy trailed off, eyes rimmed with red. He slinked toward Cyborg, throwing his body between Christian and Raven. Immediately, he linked his fingers with hers. "I know this is hard. I can't imagine what you are going through. My God, I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest, and these girls aren't even my blood. But I understand where Robin and Raven are coming from. If you think of nothing but what _might_ happen, you won't have any room to prevent it _from _happening. So right now, we need to devise a plan on protecting them."

"Okay. Okay," Beast Boy repeated once more. "I'm sorry."

Cyborg cupped Beast Boy's shoulder in a comforting pat. "No prob, man. But right now, we need to lay down some ground rules."

"We can't let them out of the tower," Twain said, but Katelynn shook her head.

"Lex, they wouldn't agree to that." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to protest. "Let me finish. They have school, friends, a life. If we take that all away just for a threat, someone might bend the rules. They're teenagers, Alexander. They think they're invincible. Even Sam. What would she do if you told her she couldn't further her education because some woman was threatening to hurt her?"

"She's step out just to prove she could protect herself," Robin said. "She's too much like me. I couldn't be kept inside when Bruce trained me. It's… not in my nature to take orders. Sam's the same way."

"So we don't take that privilege away," Cyborg stated. He waited until all eyes were on him. "We can't take away a teenagers freedom. We can limit it, but never remove it permanently. So, we set a curfew."

"A curfew isn't enough," Ethan said, eyebrows drawing together when Cyborg held up a hand.

"I know. But it's a start. I… have an idea. The thing is, it won't be simple."

"Don't make us wait, Cy," Raven said softly, her fingers tightening against Beast Boy's fingers.

"It will require pain on their part, but I think that if I design a tracking device that was can slip into their body-"

"We can keep track of them at all times," Robin concluded. "If they were taken, we could track them."

"Yes. But it might take time. There are certain precautions. I'm no medical doctor, but-"

"I am." Christian didn't have the energy to blush when their heads snapped up to stare at him. "If Cyborg can whip up an implantable tracking device, then I can put it in. I would… probably have to insert it into the muscle of the arm. It's the safest place for it. It will hurt, but in the long run, it will be helpful. That way, you can always keep an eye on them without restricting their lifestyle. But… we would have to have a test subject. If something goes wrong, then we would be screwed if all chips were inside us… but who would be the one to offer?"

"Sam," her parents echoed, causing Christian to press his index fingers together. "She'd probably hurt you if you thought of anyone else," Robin added, smiling slightly for the first time in hours.

He nodded, fully intent on going into more detail about the precautions Cyborg would have to take with the chip when Colt cleared his throat and asked, "Why would it be surgically implanted? Couldn't it be… in a necklace or something?"

Robin opened his mouth to answer, but Christian beat him to it. "After telling me everything you know about Rebecca, it would seem like she isn't a stupid woman. She would know immediately that we did something to insure their safety, so it would be the first thing she removed. She will probably already know that we have something like this in store, so she'll be ready to remove it quickly. However, by the time she gets around to it, we will have already gotten to signal and will know where they are or where they're heading."

"Right," Colt said, eyes distant. It was obvious he wasn't really paying attention to anything they had to say, not after the wind witch had made it obvious that those not be sold as sex slaves were to be handled with as the villain pleased. She had laid out many ideas, none of them healthy for a parent to hear. It was especially difficult to hear that his youngest daughter was mentioned by name as being to next victim of some man's planned torture.

"They need to be prepared." Beast Boy glanced up at Cyborg. "Do you have any holographic simulators that could help? If we present them with the highest level on it, they will be prepared for anything. We don't know what villains will go after which girl, but if they know to expect the worst and are already prepared for it, maybe we'll all have time to get to them before they can take them away. That, or just get out of it period. I remember you created one for us after Slade took Robin as an apprentice. Do you think you can tinker with it until you can get a nearly unbeatable level?"

Cyborg shifted slightly. "Yeah, I can, but the last time we tried that, it was so hard that Robin nearly bit the dust._ I_ can't even go through the simulation without bending some part of me."

"It will be supervised, and when it gets too difficult, we cut it. But at least we know that if worst comes to worst, they can take better care of themselves because they went through the simulator."

"During this stage, I can work on the chips so no one will have enough time on their hands to actually picture what she said." Cyborg eased his elbows onto his knee and linked his metal hands loosely. "I can run the statistics past Christian to make sure nothing will jack with their physical makeup and then when the time comes, both of us can insert it into the girls."

"I think," Christian said slowly, "that everyone beneath the age of twenty should get one, female or not. You never know what her plan is, and why risk it? The first set will be given to the women, no problem, but we can't leave out the men. If nothing else, when the time comes, it'll be good to know where everyone is incase someone needs help. At least that way you can gauge on how much time it takes for them to get there, then estimate how much time the victim has before there is no hope in rescuing them."

He took a breath and looked around at the people around him, then continued. "But until then… I'm all against instilling fear in anyone, but I think you need to tell everyone above the age of twelve what is going on and what might happen in the worst case scenario. You can't sugar coat this and expect them to let you surgically implant a tracker into them. They're teenagers; they'll immediately think you don't trust them if you pop off with this information without telling them the reason behind it." Christian grimaced slightly. "Of course, after this is all over, if you don't remove them… well, they won't be able to sneak around…"

"Then it's settled," Twain said quickly as he slapped his palms against his thigh. "We'll tell them tomorrow."

"But I think we should give them a little break before we scare the shit out of them." Harley suggested. "I think it would be a good idea to let all the kids go to Hannah and Ethan's place like they offered. We can keep an eye on them but still let 'em roam free."

"What are we going to do about school? And how long will these chips take? After all, we do have quite a number of children. And are we doing this to the little ones?"

Starfire quickly jumped up. "No. We can't let someone so young go through with this. After all, their muscles aren't fully developed-"

"And we don't want their muscles to be damaged by the chip," Christian concluded. "It would cause great discomfort the rest of their life. We probably wouldn't be able to safely remove it, either- not when it reaches that point."

"I think I already have a rough draft," said Cyborg. " If everything goes as planned, and I charge up my battery without sleep, then I can have a test chip reading in about forty-five hours."

"And we can't keep them out of school," Raven interjected. "We'll talk to them tomorrow and tell them that if they want to go to school, they ride with an adult or in groups of about four or five. The older teens can keep their jobs as well, since they all work with us and we can keep a sharp eye on them."

"Then it's settled. I think it best if we all stay here at the tower. We have plenty of room and the kids can branch off with their respect age group. I'm sure Kiranne will let Sam stay with her or vice versa, or Dante can bunk with Shia or something. We'll figure it out." Beast Boy's voice was still a bit shaky, but other than that, he seemed as composed as Robin.

The group broke up to fix the sleeping arrangement. Christian let his eyes wander of the adults faces, mouth set in a straight line. No one was ever going to get over what the wind demon said, Christian concluded. They would fall asleep tonight with the image of their daughters being raped, tortured, killed, and there would be nothing anyone could do.

He watched them all leave, hands linked and body slouched forward on his knees as his mind shifted through the possibilities with the chips. If they could implant chips into a dogs, then humans shouldn't be any different. Right?

"Hey kid."

Christian glanced up when Robin and Cyborg settled on either side of him. "I'll make you a rough draft of the plans tonight and run it by you."

He studied the mechanical man with no emotions. "You know more about this than I do. I only know how to go about this surgically. But you have to know," he said softly, turning his attention to Robin, "I've never worked on a living, breathing human this way. I mean, now-a-days, they have mannequins that bleeds and dies on you if you screw up, but never humans-"

"Christian," Robin said softly, "we trust you. Sam trusts you," he added, watching with slight amusement as Christian went red. "If something goes wrong, no one will blame you."

Christian blanched at that, but Robin hastily added, "And since the first person you'll be working on is Samara, we all know you'll do everything in your power to make sure nothing goes wrong." Robin hesitantly patted his back, still not one for human touch unless it was his wife or children. "You need sleep, kid. Rest that brain of yours so we can start protecting our women."

Both adults stood up, Cyborg clapping him hard on the back so the boy genius lurched forward. Chuckling, Cyborg slung his arm around Robin and started bouncing his ideas off the startled hero.

Christian was mulling over the best way to go about implanting the chip into Sam when something small and dark threw itself down beside him. Startled, Christian swiveled his head to the side. Lucan was sitting primly beside him, back ramrod straight and hands linked in front of him like a Christian school boy.

"We need to talk," he stated, his forced tone octaves lower than his normal pitch as he tried to give himself the air of a grown man. Christian fought back a chuckle, instead pasting on a serious mask as he leaned back against the couch.

"About what? Girls?"

Lucan slid him a glance that had Christian cocking up a surprised eyebrow. The irritation mirrored within the gold depths of Luc's eyes was like looking straight at Sam. Amazed at this little boy, Christian draped his ankle against his right thigh and prepared to give this little boy advice about whatever he wanted to talk about. If it was women, however, both of them were screwed.

"I wanna know what's going on."

This was the last thing Christian expected. He barely managed to keep his jaw from sagging in shocked surprise. Only his degree from Harvard kept him from showing just how surprised he really was. Christian schooled his features and stared at the boy head on, making sure his eyes were void of any emotion. This had been taught to him during the first class he had, when the professor had stated that being a doctor was a lot more emotionally challenging than most jobs. Not all patients were going to survive surgery and not all children would walk out of a hospital room after a wreck. This was life, his professor had stated, but it doesn't make it easy. Telling a parent that their only child died during an operation takes a strength that many people don't have. You can't break down like they do. You can't weep with them when it sinks in and you can't turn away when the pressure get to be too much. So you paste on a face, offer your condolences, and when you do home, you break, but never before you walk out of those hospital doors.

Now, that logic was about to be put to the test. He was going to sidestep the kid every step of the way, yet he wouldn't look away, no matter what he did. If he could deal with Samara after she kissed him the first and only time and decided it was her duty to shove him over furniture when he happened to get to close to her, then he could deal with the mini-Sam in front of him.

"There's nothing going on, Lucan."

"Bullcrap! I know something weird is going on and Sam's involved in it! You can't hide that from me. I might be young, but I deserve to know! How would you like it if someone knew something you really wanted to know but wouldn't tell you 'cause they think your too young and-"

Christian blinked rapidly as Lucan launched into a tirade longer than the one before the dodgeball fight. "Lucan, stop and take a deep breath."

He did as he was told, but glared hotly at Christian the entire process. "I wanna know what's going on," he repeated, " and if you don't tell me, I'm gonna stomp on your feet."

Normally, this threat would have been completely harmless had it of been any other ten year old, but when said by a Tameranian, who, he was told, was much stronger than ten adult wrestlers put together, it was quite unnerving. Christian tucked his feet under him nonchalantly as he stated, "Lucan, this really is something that you don't need to hear-"

"Is Samara involved?" He asked, folding his dark arms across his chest.

Christian cocked his head. "Well, yes…"

"Then it involves me. Now tell me! I wanna know! If it's something bad, I can handle it. I'm much smarter than most kids my age and I can handle a lot of bad stuff when it happens so there's no need for you not to tell me, 'specially when it comes to Sam, who is like, my hero, so now, I have to protect her and-"

"Lucan," Christian said, gently easing on the kid gloves, "this isn't something you can protect her from. Otherwise, I'd tell you to go right for it, but not this. This… you don't understand, Luc. This would kill you if you knew anything about what was going on, and this is something you can't fully understand."

Luc, for a change, was silent. His body slouched forward slightly, fingers twisting. "I've gotta do something," he muttered, but his tone was thick, as if he were holding back tears. "I gotsta protect her, 'cause she don't have anyone else who will. She acts all bad and stuff, but she's gotta be protected to, and I wanna do that for her. She's gotta have someone to lean on, right?"

Christian hesitated, his mask cracking. "Umm… Lucan, look." He sighed heavily, plowing all ten fingers through his unruly tresses. "This is stuff even I wish I didn't know. Telling you will only make things worse. I know what's it like to grow up too fast, and I won't let that happen to you-"

His words broke off in a yelp when Lucan reached over with a speed that no human could manage and wrapped his hands- already grown past that of a ten year old- and wrapped it around Christian's wrist. Thankfully, Christian's hands were quite big for a man in his profession, so Lucan couldn't get his hand completely around his wrist, but what grip he did manage to get could easily break his bones if Lucan tightened his grip.

"I don't wanna hurt you, Chris, but I can't protect my sister without knowing what I'm protecting her from."

Christian flinched slightly when his grip tightened and the circulation to his fingers were cut off. "Kid," he growled, "if it were physically possible, I'd swear that you were Sam's child. Now, let go."

Lucan blushed, obviously taking this as a compliment, but did not loosen his grip. "Tell me."

Christian had one of two choices. Let the kid break his wrist- he knew that Lucan really wasn't aware of how strong his grip was and the actually breaking his bones was not on his list of things to do today, but the kid's grip was already to the point where pain flared down his arm- or really, really summarize what was going on. Christian wasn't a normal geek, so he really wasn't that wimpy, but he really didn't want to explain how he broke his wrist, so he finally managed, "Dammit, alright, you win. Now, lemme go so I can tell you."

Lucan, surprised that he was actually getting his way, dropped Christian's wrist and glanced down sheepishly at his combat boots. "Sorry," he mumbled as Christian rubbed the bruises blooming across his skin. "But I really wanna know, and I know that no one else will tell me. You care about Sam as much as I do, I hope, and I just figured that if all the things she says in her diary are true, then-"

"Diary?" The pain was momentarily forgotten as Christian gawked down at the younger boy. All maturity he had managed to hold since he returned from Harvard vanished. "She writes about me? In her diary? She writes about geeky old me, who didn't loose his virginity until a few night before graduation because he was terrified of the female population? Me? You're joking."

Lucan's eyebrows drew together as he regarded Christian with amused disgust. "Urm… yeah. She says she loves you-"

"Loves me?" Christian squeaked, causing Luc to giggle.

"Yeah. She don't think you're geeky. She says a lot of stuff about you in there, stuff that's kinda gross-"

"Gross how?"

"Kissing and stupid girly stuff like that. Nasty," he muttered, watching Christian as he joyfully hyperventilated. Sam, beautiful, smart, talented (and so not geeky) Sam, liked- no- _loved_ him? Wow… just… wow.

"Jeez, stop drooling, will ya? I'll get her diary for ya. Now tell me or…" Christian's ecstatic bubble burst when Lucan adapted a very wicked look. "Or I'll tell Sam that you nearly had an asthma attack when I told you."

Christian's smile switched off as quickly as a light. "I don't have asthma."

"No, but it's geeky enough that she'll think twice about sleeping with you when the times comes... although I don't exactly know why she'd want to sleep next to _you _of all people-"

The rest was drowned out by Christian choking on his own salvia at this innocent declaration. Lucan waited impatiently for him to catch his breath, foot tapping in annoyance. "Now, tell me or I can think of something better… like… you don't feel the same way she does-"

"No! Damn, kid, you sure know how to work things to your advantage. Not even Sam does that. She just beats you until she gets her answer." Christian ran his thumb along the finger-shaped bruises as he quickly summarized Rebecca's plans so it was PG.

"Okay, here's the deal. A long time ago, when I was just a baby, this woman created havoc upon Jump City, killing innocent girls in the process. Mom, Star, Hannah, Harley, and Raven were captured by her, but got away. This ticked her off. So now, she has hired super villains- like the ones your parents used to fight- and plans on… kidnapping your sisters and the rest of the female population had between the girls who got away. And… well, they plan on… hurting them… badly," he finished lamely. "This is… really hard on everyone, so don't tell anyone I told you this, okay?"

Luc's eyes were bright with fear for his family. "But why does she want to hurt my sisters? What did they do to her?"

"Nothing," Christian spat in disgust. "She's doing this to get back at your mom and Raven for getting away. It is her form of revenge."

Lucan glanced away from him, eyes filling with tears. Christian was immediately swamped with guilt. "I didn't want to tell you this, Lucan. I tried-"

"I'm gonna protect her extra hard, then! She won't get none of my sisters unless she goes through me!"

Lucan leapt from the couch, hands fisted at his sides. "I'm gonna protect all my sisters from that lady if it's the last thing I do!"

Christian watched Lucan marched out of the room, tears making his gold eyes bright as he stomped his way down the hallway. He stared after him long after the door had closed. "Damn kid," Christian muttered. "He's too damn brave for his own good."

XxX

Sam opened her door irritably, annoyed that whoever was knocking so quickly had interrupted her train of thought. She didn't have much time to write, what with homework and training eating away all her free time, so nights like these- when she was too lazy to do either of the former- that she used her time to transfer her books onto the computer, where she could make corrections. Everyone knew never to bother her during this period of time, so, she knew whoever this was happened to be stupid or hurt. Most likely, it was the former.

"What?" She snapped.

She faulted when Lucan glanced up at her, eyes brimming with unshed tears. The immediate instinct to console knocked into her. She was on her knees in an instant, all anger dissipated. "Lucan, baby, what's wrong? Did Mac hit you again? Did you fall? What's the matter?" Lucan never cried, even if he did fall and scrape his knee. The last time he had cried was when he was five and he watched a animal get hit. Lucan crying was like Sam giving up: it just didn't happen.

"Luc, tell me what's wrong." She reached up to cup his face in her hand to make him look at her. Beneath her hands, his skin was hot. "Does something hurt?" Maybe he was sick. Did something happen to one of his friends? Did someone say something bad? What was wrong with him? Explanation ran rampant through her head, all worse than the last. What was wrong with Luc?

"Sam." She glanced up from Lucan's tear streaked face to see Christian leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest and something heavy dancing in his fog-gray eyes.

"Christian, what's going on? What's wrong with him?"

A sob tore from her baby brother's throat, quickly catching her attention. Her heart constricted in her chest at her brother's pain. "Tell me what I can do for you, Luc," she said softly, at a loss for what to do.

And then, without warning, Lucan threw his body into her arms. "I'll protect you!" He promised, weeping against her chest. "I'll protect you from everything!"

Samara, for the first time her life, did not know what to do. Her shocked eyes locked with Christian, Samara gently wrapped her arms around her baby brother's back and smoothed down his hair. "It's okay, Lucan. It's okay. Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise."

XxX

"_Gizzy_!"

Gizmo slammed down his wrench in annoyance as her whining voice reverberated through his underground apartment. Two days with the woman and already he was ready to pull his non-existent hair out. He glared vehemently down at the innocent robot he had designed to clean up his pigsty and waited with growing impatience for her to throw herself into his arms and weep about something stupid.

It took one minute and twenty-six seconds.

"Oh, Gizzy, she tattled on me! She told them _everything!_" He started at his wall, tic jumping above his eyebrow. "She left nothing out! Oh, Gizzy, what am I to do? There will be no surprise now! They'll figure out a way to get out of it. Poo," she moped, folding her arms over his tiny chest. "This is not what I planned."

Gizmo shifted her in his lap so he could tinker more with his new maid. "You'll think of something," he stated monotonously, wishing for the umpteenth time since he had slept with this blonde annoyance in his lap that he had never gone to that stupid convention. What was he thinking? He had stopped following orders after Jinx had betrayed them, so what made him think he would enjoy being ordered around by a woman who used her body to get people to kidnap innocent girls so she could rape them? It was… sickening, and though Gizmo wasn't exactly right in the mind, he wasn't _this_ cruel. Stealing, fine. Beating people up with his engineering? Whatever. Raping innocent girls, like Kiranne whose one mistake in life was to love a boy who didn't want her? Umm, no.

"Oh dear. This puts a bind on my plans. She was only supposed to mess with them, knock them around a bit without getting defeated, then toss the roses at them! That's all. They would have known I was coming, but never when, or what I would do." She bounced in his lap as she threw her tantrum like a five year old rich brat who couldn't get the pony she wanted for Christmas. "What shall I do now? They're going to figure out something and then I won't get my revenge!"

She slammed her fist down on the table, upsetting his tiny robotic maid. He watched in annoyance as his cleaning lady jerked up off the desk and started to short circuit, driving around on its wheels in dizzying circles until it flew off the table and straight into his fish tank.

"Oh," she said, sniffing. "That's one way to fry fish."

Gizmo sighed heavily, planting her feet on the ground so he could fish his maid out of the water and dispose of his fried fish. Rebecca watched him, sniffing daintily as she pouted and eased herself onto the table. "Gizzy," she whined again, taking no notice to Gizmo whacking his forehead against his metal lockers repeatedly. "I've been thinking…"

"Never a good thing," he muttered.

"What did you say, Gizzy? I couldn't hear you. And why are you so close to those lockers? Is something wrong?"

Gizmo sighed again. "No, I'm fine. I was just… looking for something."

"Oh," she pouted, looking every bit like a blonde, tiny, annoying cheerleader who thought the world revolved around her. "But I was thinking about Kiranne again."

Gizmo sat down across from her, forehead pounding. "Again?" _What is your freaking obsession with that girl? There's nothing worth obsessing over! Unless, of course, you have some sick fetish with girls who are as innocent as that girl. Sick perv. _

"And… I just can't take away all that innocence! I mean, it's who she is! I want to, but then I'll lose interest, and then I won't want her, and I'll have to kill her, and I don't want that! So I decided that I'll just screw with her heart," she chirped happily. "I mean, what better way to break her than to break Dante?"

Gizmo started at her, sickened, as she threw herself into his arms and planted a long kiss on his mouth. "So, Gizzy, what do you say we take a little vacation to Gotham City?"

XxX

Senior year + job+ filling out college applications + scouring down scholarships equals little time for writing. And, when I do have free time, I spend it sleeping. So… updates will be slower than usual. On the other hand, I actually made a outline of this, so I shouldn't have any writer's block tossed in my way.

I have decided that TWR: PoB will be my main focus. _The Book of Garion_ is not doing well at all, so I'll only work on that when I have time or I piss those people off who actually read it and get enough heat from them (_Like from your editor? I like that one. -RT)_. That, and I'm mulling over ideas for _Before Dishonor._


End file.
